A Wonderful Lie
by Short on words
Summary: UPDATED! "It's been ages since someone did that," Damon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Did what?" Elena questioned softly, her fingers still trailing along his cheek. "Made me-, feel," Damon managed. They had been through hell and back and the best had yet to come. AH
1. You give love a bad name

**xXx**

Two trembling hands clasped the firm mahogany headboard of a newly made bed. Damon Salvatore. _Damon_ Salvatore. Elena still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that the job she had just accepted included her dashing and ever-confident ex-boyfriend.

He was the guy she used to dream about, used to write about, used to kiss, used to crave… The guy whose heart she'd broken. _The guy who'd get her fired the minute he'd realize she was the girl they had hired as his trainee._

Her knuckles were turning white bit by bit. She tried to loosen her grip again, to let go. _Breathe_. She had been trying for ten years now: to let it go, but there was no lettering go. There was no forgetting _him_. Damon Salvatore. _Damon_ Salvatore. '_Forever and always, til kingdom come'_. Oh how little those words had truly meant once she had passed the tender age of fifteen.

And now here she was, in an elegant yet compact one-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. Graduated. Intelligent. Beautiful. Likable. She was an accomplished young woman in all ways that mattered. Her parents were proud. Proud of her degree, proud of her living alone, proud of the life she had created for herself and at times so was she. _Proud_.

It was a good feeling, a feeling that made it all worth it. All the late nights, the isolation, the secret collection of used tissues clogging up the last drawer of her nightstand.

Yet whenever her eyes would take in the four champagne coloured walls that made up her safe haven, she couldn't seem to get past the large and prominent mirror, lining the back of her bedroom door.

At times all she did was stare. Stare at her own reflection. Stare far ahead into the distance. _The past. The future_. Because this was it. These were the days she'd been dreaming of when she was in high school, when she and her friends had been so very convinced that _the best had yet to come_. This was _that best part_, this was supposed to be _the time of her life_…

Yet somewhere along the way, her heart had stopped skipping a beat. The radiant and fearless girl Damon had managed to unleash was no more, for Damon had been the one who had told her all those years ago that she couldn't just wait the days out. _She had to live instead of simply being alive_. But now Damon was no longer lurking in the shadows to remind her of his views on 'living'.

Furthermore, she hadn't taken his advice to heart, not irrevocably, not ever since she had walked away. Instead, she had spent her days doing what she was told, what was expected of her… Eventually it had landed her a wonderful apartment. _A lonely _wonderful apartment, though. Life was passing her by, leaving a void, a pit in her stomach.

She was twenty-five now. Her friends were starting to settle down, to have kids, to build a life. And that part of life was still completely missing for Elena. She was nobody's mom, no one's true love… Some days that realization had the power to unhinge her. It would start with a small thought in the back of her mind, but spread out beneath her skin like wildfire, right until her insecurities got the best of her, swallowing her whole. _What if I'm never falling in love again, what if I won't ever crave or long or tremble with passion?_

_Happy thoughts Elena_, she urged herself, dragging her eyes away from the mirror. _More positive thinking, more joy_. The apartment was beautiful, so was the furniture, the view... It all radiated class and accomplishment. She should be happy. _She ought to be happy_. So with a bright new Colgate smile plastered slightly forced upon her face, she straightened her skirt and the rest of her attire. She was in control again, ready to face the music.

_She was ready_. She would dazzle them. They would be impressed by her capability. Because who was she kidding? She _was_ an accomplished young woman. She _was_ strong, beautiful and intelligent. Those honours on her picture perfect resume, didn't get handed to just anyone. So that wistful and insecure part of her had to be pushed aside, locked up in the bottom drawer of her nightstand.

Some more lip gloss, a hint of mascara. Smile. _Colgate smile_. Yes. _Perfect_. Ready to face the music. Ready to face _Damon_ Salvatore.

**xXx**

Ten years earlier

A tan and slender body rose from the water. Elena instantly got goose bumps as the cold air tantalized her skin. She started to tremble, the temperature had been so much better in the pool.

Elena had never been the kind of girl that overly enjoyed water amusement parks. At age 15 she wasn't particularly fond of public pools. Even if she could pretend that kids never pied in the water and all visitors thoroughly showered and scrubbed before dipping their toes in, she still had to deal with the whistling pubescent boys - that and their very vocal appreciation of her new bikini.

"Hey. Pssst… Elena? Over here…" a familiar voice caught her attention. A shiver travelled down her spine.

There it was: the reason she was enduring the whole nightmare in the first place. _Damon_.

Her darling eighteen year old boyfriend had gently coaxed her into going on the daytrip with her friends, just so he could steal a moment or two with her while they weren't looking. _And they were always looking._

Warm fingers enveloped her hand and began dragging her towards the tower in the middle of the subtropical park.

"Oooh no," she protested instantly, "I'm not going down the slide, it goes way too fast and then I can't breathe and when I plunge into the water my top always shifts and-"

"Relax, Elena," Damon interrupted, "Do something new, have some fun, some excitement. You know life is for living, right? Not just being alive."

"But Damon-" Elena whined.

It was no use, not even a minute later they were already climbing the wet staircase that led to the highest waterslide, a giant green tube.

"Damon, my friends will know I'm missing! I told them I was going to the lockers, they'll be worried if I stay away for too long," Elena argued.

"Then you better hurry up." Warm breath tickled the nape of her neck, causing her stomach to flutter.

There was almost no queue at the top. It was lunchtime and most people were stuffing themselves full of greasy burgers and fries. And _diet_ coke of course. _Always diet coke_ because somehow _that_ makes the big difference.

The small light above the entrance of the tube flickered green and the group of boys in front of them all disappeared one by one. "Go on," Damon urged. "Sit down and hold the bar on top until it's your turn."

Reluctantly Elena took place, slightly uncomfortable as she took in the darkness ahead, mentally preparing herself. Then the light changed again and Damon pushed her slightly, giving her a head start.

"Damon no, I'm not-"

Well ready or not, she was past the point of no return as the water swirled her forcibly from side to side. The voices of the guys before her boomed through the dark tube and for a moment Elena couldn't seem to remember how she could have ever agreed to any of it. Then she felt two strong arms envelope her from behind. _Damon_. She was pressed against a warm, muscled torso, away from the wind, away from the cold. And as Damon, _all of Damon_, enveloped her in his embrace, she relaxed.

"It's against the rules to take the ride together unless you're travelling with childr-"

Two warm lips found her neck, distracting her. With Damon's head resting on her shoulder and his thumb daring to skim some barely covered skin, Elena was officially rendered short on words.

"Mmmm," she murmured slightly.

"That's right," Damon grinned.

"You know you're corrupting me, right?" Elena mused.

"Always…" Damon promised.

"Hey! That wasn't a-"

SPLASH! They were already in the water, out in the great big world where they weren't supposed to be together, or to touch.

Little trinkets of water were flying everywhere as Damon shook the wetness out of his hair and opened his eyes. He could easily be part of a classic romantic movie. His stellar girlfriend however, was already heading for the exit. He wouldn't be fast enough to reach her in time so he caught her with his eyes instead. Two blue oceans, deeper and purer than the diluted water they were swimming in, pleaded with her to notice those two lips of his, curled downwards into a pout. _Not yet_, he pleaded silently.

_Please, you know I can't_, her eyes whispered as she tilted her head wistfully. _Tonight_, she mouthed eventually, as a compromise.

_The woods_? Damon mouthed back in question.

Elena nodded and her blue-eyed Salvatore smiled.

Then she kissed the palm of her hand and blew it his way, making sure that no one else noticed. Damon's eyes glistened. _The twinkle in her eyes, the hint of a shy smile still present on her face_. She was the picture of _perfection_ and _innocence_. And she loved him. _Him_ of all people. It made him proud, made him want to be _better_. Better for her. _Better _because she'd never ask him to change. He couldn't help the smile lighting up his features. She loved him. _His Elena_.

Forever and always, til kingdom come.

**xXx**

Present day

"Sophie eat your breakfast," Damon ordered firmly, taking a sip from his cup of hot coffee.

"But Tiger's not eating," his five year old pride and joy promptly argued.

_Tiger_. Damon did his very best not to roll his eyes.

Tiger was the annoying little kitten his sister had bought Sophie for her fifth birthday, the day before. The inquisitive nine-week-old animal had kept him up all night with some very bothersome yapping and meowing.

"Sweetheart, that thing is afraid of his silly mouse toy, you cannot be calling him Tiger," Damon told his little girl evenly.

"But his name _is_ Tiger! You can't change someone's name daddy!" Sophie insisted.

"Fine. But eat your cereals before they get all mushy, Princess," Damon conceded, leaving the table to go look for a foldable shopping box he could convert into a makeshift cage. _Damn his sister for not thinking things through_! The little animal had no place to stay during the day and leaving it all alone to do its business all over the leather couch was definitely not an option.

"What will Tiger do today?" Damon heard his five-year-old inquire from afar.

"Sleeping, eating and pooping," Damon retorted swiftly.

"Why?" Sophie wondered.

"Because."

"But why?"

"Because that's what little kittens do sweetheart. What do you want on your sandwich for lunch?" Damon asked instead.

"Chocolate sprinkles!" Sophie instantly requested.

"Then chocolate sprinkles it is," her father drew with a smile, preparing lunch and boxing it up with two biscuits and some apple juice.

Half an hour later Damon had put Tiger in the plastic shopping box, which was now covered by a large glass picture frame.

"Come on Soph, put in a little more effort please," he urged, trying to coax his daughter's foot into the new brown winter boots he had bought her a few days earlier.

"But I want the pink ones," Sophie whined with a pout.

"Princess, the pink shoes are for summer. When it rains you'll get your toes all wet and you'll catch a cold. Please put your foot in and stop stalling, or we'll be late," Damon insisted, holding her gaze to make sure she got the message.

"If I put them on, can I go say bye to Tiger?" his little girl tried to bargain.

"Fine. Real quick," Damon surrendered, zipping the tiny boots up. Sophie instantly ran off towards the kitchen counter where her little friend was meowing loudly and ruefully.

"Daddy, he's hurting!" Sophie exclaimed, looking up at her father with doe eyes.

"He's not sweetheart, he's just not used to the house yet. Yesterday he was still hanging around with his brothers and sisters. It'll take time, but don't worry, he'll be ok," Damon tried to sooth her, already walking out of the room to shrug on his jacket.

The sound of glass breaking reached his ears before his daughter's surprised shriek did. When he turned around, the frame that had rested atop the makeshift cage, lay shattered and scattered across the tiles. _Thank God Sophie was wearing shoes_.

Amidst the shards of glass stood his baffled, shaken girl, holding onto her stuffed animal with trembling hands. She eyed him warily, eyes teary and started to sob only a second later.

Damon rapidly made his way through the mess, ignoring the escaping kitten and picked up his daughter, cradling her against his chest. "It's ok sweetheart," Damon shushed the startled toddler, swaying gently to calm her down. "It was just the noise. It's all fine now," he comforted her, shifting Sophie over to his hip to reach for Tiger with his free hand.

"What happened?" Damon questioned, setting Sophie on the counter and placing Tiger back inside his box, covered with a few firm placemats and some random things on top of it now.

"You said Tiger missed his family and I wanted to give him Olaf," Sophie sobbed, still holding onto the disfigured Disney snowman she carried around lately.

Damon wiped her tears away with his thumb, eying her lovingly. Sophie had a habit of bringing the people she loved her stuffed animals whenever she wanted to comfort them. He himself was no exception to that rule, luckily none of his colleagues had ever seen the Winnie The Pooh Sophie repeatedly stuffed inside his briefcase.

"Fine, Tiger can have Olaf," Damon retreated quickly, wanting to finally leave for work.

"Wait," Sophie stopped him when he reached out to take away the snowman. "Do you think Tiger misses his mommy?" Sophie wondered all of a sudden.

Her father's body tensed but he hid it quickly. "I don't know, Sweety," he replied truthfully. "I don't speak cat."

"I think he does," Sophie informed him. "I want Tiger in school. Miss Judith will made him smile!" she insisted, lighting up, referring to the fact that her kindergarten teacher always knew what to do when the kids in her class missed their mothers.

"Tiger can't come sweetheart, pets don't belong in class," Damon insisted.

Tiger meowed again, drawing it out, long and ruefully.

"Do you miss your mommy?" Sophie asked. The cat simply kept meowing.

"Come on Soph, we really have to go now," her father urged.

"It's ok," Sophie told the kitten, "My mommy left me too," she informed her new friend. "But no one ever put me in a box," she added on a second note.

Damon couldn't figure out if the little girl understood the power those words held over him or if her comment had been strictly coincidental, but at nine sharp, Damon Salvatore confidently strolled into the office - half an hour late - wearing his trademark black button down, now embellished with a tiny ginger kitten catching a ride on his left shoulder.

"Are you for real?" Jessica asked when he passed the reception desk.

"Nope," Damon swiftly replied, with a popping p.

"Is that a cat?" Tyler inquired perplexed.

"No, it's a dog Lockwood. A fifty pound Rottweiler," he insisted, rolling his eyes at the idiotic comment.

"Salvatore. Office. Now." Ric's voice boomed trough paper-thin walls as he noticed his most charming manager roaming the hallways.

Damon swerved and made a slide to the left, dodging the mail cart before slipping into his boss's office and settling soundly into the chair before the desk. Tiger hissed and the plush hairs on his back instantly rose.

"Do I even want to know?" Ric questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nope," Damon responded quickly, tilting his head.

"Do you have a solution for when you're taking a meeting?" Ric asked next.

"Double nope," his employee of the month contributed proudly.

"Damon," Ric sighed, letting his head fall back against the chair in aggravation.

"Yeah Ric," Damon responded, mimicking his boss's pose.

"You can't bring your cat to work man," Ric informed him, shaking his head.

"Mmm," Damon murmured. "So is this you firing the best negotiator on your team or are you not quite ready to bankrupt the company yet?" Damon inquired confidently.

"Asshole," Ric scolded his best friend, still shaking his head.

"That's what I thought," Damon concluded with a small nod, holding onto Tiger while he stood up again. "Glad we had this talk, _boss_," he drew sweetly, his voice laced with Salvatore sarcasm.

"Wait!" Ric interjected quickly. "We're not done."

"We're not?" Damon inquired, one foot already out the door.

"Your trainee is coming in today, that's actually what I wanted to discuss with you," Alaric explained.

"You mean the fleshly graduated newbie _I_'m supposed to teach all my dirty tricks to in order to bust _your_ profit," Damon taunted.

"More like the gorgeous and intelligent young woman that's going to replace you if you keep up this attitude," Ric threatened.

"Can't you give her to Lockwood? I don't need an inexperienced little girl following me around like a lost puppy, _I already have a cat_," Damon flashed his eyes, pointing at Tiger to prove his point.

"Lockwood wasn't the one requesting a lighter workload, buddy," Ric informed him, his voice softer, carrying a meaningful undercurrent now.

Damon's demeanour changed as Ric altered the rules of their game.

"You know I can't-" Damon started out defensively.

"I know," Ric interrupted, trying to calm him down, "And I respect that," he continued. "But that does mean that you need an extra hand, someone to pitch in when needed. Look Damon, I can't keep giving you these privileges" he explained softly.

"At some point people are going to ask questions and it wouldn't be fair towards the others. If you don't want anyone to know, then you can't expect their understanding or compassion," Ric explained tentatively. "No one at work is aware you're doing the single-parent–thing at home, buddy."

"What I _can_ do, however, is burden you with a trainee. A highly intelligent young woman who so happens to have a very _flexible_ timetable," Ric told him, eying him meaningfully. "No weekends for you anymore, and a back-up for whenever you're suddenly needed elsewhere…" Ric's voice trailed off.

Damon nodded. "Ok," he replied simply, absentmindedly plucking Tiger off his shoulder and putting the acrophobic kitten in his lap. "At what time should I be expecting my puppy?"

"In half an hour," his boss informed him.

"Great," Damon offered. "I'll set up an extra desk in my office then," he muttered, begrudgingly, yet significantly more pliable than before.

"Good boy," Ric teased. Damon simply rolled his eyes before strolling out and into his own office.

**xXx**

Two knocks signalized a visitor by the door. Actually they didn't, the two and a half minutes of insistent pacing already had.

Damon had been watching the coming and retreating shadow amused. His linen blinds were closed, so he couldn't make out more than a shape, but she was nervous, he knew she was. And somehow that thrilled the mischievous part of him, just a bit. He'd always been more of a bad boy.

"Come in," Damon spoke, trying to keep his voice as even as possible and void of the sudden excitement he was feeling.

He heard an unmistakable sharp intake of breath coming from the other side of the door, right before it opened just a few inches and the young woman who'd been bracing herself came into sight.

_No. God no_.

Damon's breath seemed to get caught in his throat. Elena wasn't doing any better, hesitantly shuffling inside with her eyes cast down. It took Damon a moment to recover himself. She looked so much like-, so very much like-, Damon opened the folder that lay on top of his desk, looking down at the black cursive name written neatly in the upper right corner.

_Elena Gilbert_.

_No_, was the only word reverberating through this thoughts. **No**, no, no, _no,_ no. Did I mention no?

"Excuse me for a moment," he murmured, grabbing the file from his desk and heading out quickly.

No.

**xXx**

_Shot through the heart_  
_And you're to blame_  
_Darling, you give love a bad name..._


	2. No good in goodbye

**_xXx_**

_No matter how it falls apart  
There's an "art" in breaking he__**arts**__  
But there's no "fair" in __**fare**__well  
And when I see you in the street  
I pray to God you don't see  
The silent hell in I wish you w__**(h)ell**_

**xXx**

The door of the General Manager's office swung open wide, without so much as a knock. "I'm not working with her!" Damon's voice boomed though the room before he was even fully inside.

"What do you-" Ric started, but he didn't get a chance to finished his sentence.

"The girl!" Damon quickly reminded him. "I. Am. Not. Training that one." Damon spelled out determinedly, crossing his arms in front of his torso.

"What did she do?" Ric inquired, not following.

"She's incompetent," Damon snapped.

"And you've deducted that in what? Two seconds? Stellar job, Sherlock," Ric joked, though his tone lacked humour.

"Mmm yes," Damon managed.

"Ok. Great: let's hear it," Ric demanded, crossing his arms too now and leaning back against the front of his desk.

"She's- Well, she-"

"- has an incredible resume, perfect grades and great references," Ric finished for him.

"You haven't met her. You don't know her!" Damon insisted.

"And you do?" Ric inquired. _This just got interesting,_ he thought, hiding his smile.

Damon nodded.

"How so?" Ric wondered out loud.

"She's in my office, you idiot," Damon snapped.

Ric sighed. "As much as I appreciate you looking out for the company, I'm not firing anyone based on your judgy two-second-opinion. Give her a day, Damon," Ric insisted.

"But I _do_ know her," Damon contested. "We kind of… dated for a while in high school," he admitted once he realized there would be no way to hide the truth from Ric.

Damon had expected all sorts of reactions. Disbelief. Empathy. Curiosity. Yet not the booming laugher that suddenly resounded through the room. Ric quickly tried to recover himself, muttering a rushed 'sorry'. It was no use. Upon seeing Damon's sullen expression he couldn't help but break out in laughter all over again.

"Sorry man," Ric stated, "But I can't ban every girl you've ever kissed from the building or we'd be out of employees," Ric snickered. "You practically _slept_ your way through high school," he added apologetically with a grin.

"I did not _sleep_ my way through high school, in fact Elena and I didn't even-"

"The answer is no," Alaric interrupted before he could utter another word. "You're Damon Salvatore. Suck it up. The girl is probably ten times more mortified than you are. And she's what? Twenty-four?"

"Twenty-FIVE," Damon automatically corrected.

"Same difference," Ric replied.

_No it's not_, Damon thought, but he held his tongue. "The point here, _Ric_, is that I _do_ know this woman. She's not a good fit in the company and she _definitely_ won't be an asset. You'd be better off letting her go, save both me _and you _the trouble," Damon insisted.

"No. The point here, _Damon,_ is that you're acting like a five-year-old. Look, I can't just fire her over her questionable taste in men…" Ric retorted.

"Asshole!" Damon mumbled.

"That's me," Ric sing-songed. It was no use admonishing Damon or trying to change his bad behaviour, the only proper approach was to go with it. "Now get your arse back behind that desk of yours and grow-up, buddy. Or do you need me to go there with you and hold your hand?" Ric demanded.

"I'm going home," Damon responded evenly, turning on his heal.

"Oh no, you're not!" Ric denied. "You're going to introduce me to her right now," he added.

"Ric," Damon whined.

"Damon," his friend warned, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

"Fine," Damon mumbled. "But I'm not buying, next time we drink. And we _will_ drink."

"Fair enough," Ric agreed. "Let's go."

**xXx**

"She's vicious Ric. And cruel. No costumer will like her, she'll betray the company and-"

"Vicious huh?" Ric repeated, watching a young woman carcass Damon's kitten from the window. "She looks very vicious," he added in mock-seriousness.

"She is, she's-" Damon tried one last time. But then Ric opened the door and stepped in. All was lost once he was greeted by her radiant and kind-hearted smile.

"Alaric Saltzman," Ric introduced himself. "General Manager," he added.

Elena nodded, shaking his hand politely. "And I assume this one introduced himself already?" he raised an eyebrow turning to Damon.

"No I haven't. I was… busy," Damon quickly recovered. Stopping the _what-should-I-do's_ in his head with one quick and easy solution: evasion. "Damon Salvatore," Damon supplied, formally reaching out his hand.

"Your mentor," Ric clarified. "Damon will be showing you around in the company, taking you to meetings, showing you the ropes. He's one of our best. I'm sure you'll learn a lot from him," he commanded his best friend. "Does that sound like a plan?" he tried to ease the tension.

Elena smiled shyly and nodded, much to Damon's irritation. Yet the blue-eyed Salvatore didn't say a word, patiently waiting for Ric to leave the office. Except: _what then_? It wasn't like he could force her to quit. Perhaps he could _make her leave_, make her _want to leave_. Or he could simply _quit himself… So many options_, he mused in silence.

"Alright," Ric cleared his throat. "Let's leave you to it," he announced, clasping Damon's shoulder briefly and warningly before heading out.

The door behind him closed with a soft thud, leaving the room utterly and eerily silent. You could hear a pin drop as the uncomfortable moment stretched on and on.

"I'm sorry," Elena spoke, squirming under his scrutiny.

"What for?" Damon all but barked. He didn't utter the 'exactly' after the first words, but Elena still heard it. He needed her to be more specific, after all these years she had a whole lot to apologize for.

"Being here, applying for the job, I didn't know you worked here back when I applied and I…" her voice trailed off and Damon sighed deeply. Hearing her say those words wasn't as satisfying as he'd thought it would be.

For years he had wanted nothing rather than have her come back to him and beg him for forgiveness for all things said and done, yet now he didn't want to hear it. He didn't need the 'sorry', let alone the rehashing of their past. He wanted _nothing_ from her, especially not reliving those moments. He was over her.

So in the blink of an eye, his demeanour changed. The hurt, the longing, the questions, he turned it _all_ off, his face becoming blank, his expression unreadable.

"Why would you apologize for applying for a job?" Damon questioned, sounding genuinely interested, as he shifted, uncrossing his arms, his posture more open now.

"Because of us-, I mean, because you work here," she quickly corrected, flushed.

"But I _don't know you_, and you _don't know me_…" Damon spoke thoughtfully, feigning confusion and meeting her eyes. This was the '_opt-out'_ he offered both her and himself and he hoped she'd take it. This was their chance of working together in a slightly less uncomfortable way. Yet Elena didn't take the bait.

"We kind of… _dated_ in high school," she told him softly, almost unintelligibly. A murmur.

That was the last drop for Damon, her _ridiculously_ edited version of events! Only he was allowed to minimize it like that. She… she shouldn't. They hadn't _dated_. They'd been _in love_. And the young woman in front of him, the fragile and innocent-looking girl in front of him, had innocently shattered his heart into a million pieces. _Crumbling it. Setting it on fire. Tormenting it_. At least that's what it had left like. There had been no proper goodbye, no polite shake of hands and 'wish you the best'. There had only been pain.

On the outside Damon remained unfazed, a sharp contrast with the seething fire inside of his chest, blood boiling underneath his skin. _Was she kidding_?

"Well I practically slept my way through high school, so I'm sorry, I don't remember you," Damon replied poised. He saw her cheeks turn a shade of scarlet red and he knew he was hitting her where it hurt, but in that moment he didn't care. It wasn't enough. I_t wouldn't ever be enough_, he thought, as the old wounds seemed to re-open.

"We never euhm-, sl-" Elena started disdained, fidgeting uncomfortably, eyes wide and insecure.

"Well guess it's even more logical that I _don't _remember you then," Damon smirked, knowing she'd instantly realize what he was implying. _As long as they hadn't slept together, it didn't count, then it wasn't the real mature kind of love. Oh how many times they'd had that discussion…_

_Focus.  
Aim.  
Score._

Elena's eyes instantly shone with unshed tears, her smile might have age but she was still that same girl underneath. She unconsciously stepped back and stared wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights, at the boy she'd once loved. _He wasn't there. No part of him lingered. _She knew that now. Because the patient, loving and supportive boyfriend she'd once known would have _never_ been capable of such cruelty.

It weren't even the words, Elena knew he didn't mean them. It was the fact that she knew he only spoke them to hurt her, even if they'd hurt himself. _Since when was that worth it to him?_

Damon's amused expression faltered upon seeing her stumble backwards. The effects of his low blow, he realized. She caught herself, he did not.

Soundlessly he gathered some files from his desk: notes and reviews regarding all the projects he was currently working on.

"Go home. Read through those. Came back tomorrow. You look like you could use a break," he mumbled, handing her the stack.

She took it without looking up, picking her jacket back up and leaving the office.

"_Meow_," Tiger wailed as the door was slammed shut.

"I know," Damon murmured, taking the cat into his lap. "I screwed up," he admitted. "But only after she did…" he added. "_And she screwed up big time_."

**xXx**

It was a little over midnight when Damon reluctantly opened the last drawer of his bedside table. It had an old, rusted key, so he had to wiggle the bended iron a bit from where he sat on his bed before the lock finally gave way.

The last drawer was Damon's only private spot in the house. It contained a small amount of mementos, memories and keepsakes from times long forgotten, among which, a special letter. Up to now he had never had the heart to throw it away. He hated himself for it, _ridiculed_ himself for it.

_It already was_, all thrown away, he just couldn't bring himself to destroy the last piece of evidence of what had _once_ been there.

"_Forever and always, til kingdom come," he read over and over. And over again._

"Daddy," a small and distressed voice came up from the doorway.

"Yeah baby," Damon replied softly, his voice a bit hoarse although he hadn't slept yet.

"My-, my bed-, it's-"

_Wet,_Damon finished in his head. He slowly rose from his covers, careful not to sigh or look disappointed. He knew Sophie was already feeling embarrassed enough.

"It's ok baby, it happens," he comforted her, picking her up. Not that long ago she'd been dry at night, no longer needing a diaper, but ever since she'd been missing her mom the slip-ups had become more frequent.

"I was dreaming," she started to explain, as Damon undressed and washed her in the bathroom, "And in my dream I did everything. I went to the little girl's room. And I used the step stool. And I was in time. And I really thought it was real and then… It wasn't…" she told her father sadly.

After putting his little girl into clean pyjamas, Damon kissed the top of her head announcing, "I'm quickly going to put the covers into the washing machine, go crawl into the big bed, I'll be there in a second."

Sophie smiled broadly up at him, she loved to sleep in her parent's bed. It was warm, familiar, comforting… And if she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her nose into the pillow on the left side, she could still smell her mom.

_**xXx**_

When Damon re-entered his bedroom, Sophie was sitting on the left side of the bed with her legs crossed underneath her, holding a letter. His letter.

_Thank God she can't read yet_, Damon thought gratefully.

"Who's it from, daddy?" Sophie inquired, as her father took the letter and locked it back up.

"Someone I used to know," Damon replied vaguely, tucking his little girl in and laying down next to her, staring at the ceiling.

Sophie snuggled closer, tiredness finally catching up with her. She closed her eyes. "Did you love them?" Sophie questioned, yawning.

Damon nodded, before kissing her goodnight.

"All the way up to the moon and back?" the girl finally murmured, already drifting off to sleep, too tired to wait for an answer.

"And much, much further too," Damon added ruefully in a quiet whisper.

**xXx**

_Where's the good in_**_good_**_bye?  
Where's the nice in __**nice**__ try?  
Where's the us in tr__**us**__t gone?  
Where's the soul in __**sol**__dier on?_

I can't take the ache from heartbr_**eak.**_

_**xXx**_


	3. Daughters

xXx

"We, human beings, are all different, some say. Every one of us: a _special snowflake_. Magnificent. Magical. Unique. Being unique also means none of us exactly fit the prototype though. There is no 'perfection' among us. _If no two are the same, then no two can be perfect_. Some of us are funny, others sensitive, or ironic. Some kind-hearted, others guarded, or plain cold.

_We are not like the others_. In a way we are better and more flawed all at the same time. All of us are. We're all limited editions, but none of us are perfect, thus making the flaws in our system what sets us apart."

Elena closed the notebook in front of her, she was far too tired for anything profound, especially the musings of her 15-year-old self. Her words didn't hold the answers she was looking for anyhow.

She rolled around on top of the covers, burying her face in the pillow, effectively releasing the ceiling from her previous scrutiny. _She had made a mistake_. Full stop. She knew she had. On the other hand: she had been fifteen at the time. How could Damon refuse to take that into account? And even if so, even if she couldn't count on any mitigating circumstances, wasn't there ever a point where a sentence was served, a point where she was deserving of a new chance? Weren't ten years enough?

The phone on the nightstand beeped, informing Elena that she had pushed the snooze-button one too many times already. She had to get up and face _him_, even though she couldn't. _Not after the day before._ How many snide comments could a person truly take? How many more would she have to endure before he'd consider them even?

We all have our ways to make up for our flaws. Some of us are funnier than others, some are prettier, some smarter. And some of us choose kindness and warmth as our personal shield. We take a hit. We absorb. The question, however, is how much that shield can take before it dissipates…

**xXx**

Damon's foot was tapping impatiently on the hardwood floors of his office. He was flipping through random stacks of paper to occupy his mind, yet the tell-tale tapping sound kept betraying him. It was a nervous habit he'd developed over the years.

Tick. Tick. _Tap_. Tick. Tick. _Tap_. Swoosh. The clock had joined the nervous symphony in the room, completed by the sound of pages being turned. Damon forced his muscles to freeze as soon as he became aware of the collection of noises. He couldn't take it anymore. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. _Of course the clock remained_.

It was 9:04 already. It was late. _She was late_. Punctuality was important to the company. _Important to Ric._ Damon knew that all too well. He could stand up and go talk to Ric, tell him about Elena's mistake. Perhaps this might be a valid reason for him to fire her. Hope bloomed in Damon's chest.

_No way_, he quickly reminded himself. _Four minutes would never be enough_. Perhaps she'd have a valid excuse? _Or perhaps she wouldn't come back at all_. Damon pondered that for a moment. Was he truly hoping for that, hoping for Elena not to come back? Would _not_ seeing her be any less painful?

His phone started to vibrate. Somehow he stared a second however, before picking up on the second ring.

"Salvatore," he barked into the device.

"Good morning Mister Salvatore, this is Miss Judith speaking," an insecure, young female voice greeted him shakily.

Damon was instantly on high alert, straightening his back, snapped back to reality.

"Is Sophie ok?" he automatically demanded anxiously, forgetting to apologize for his lack of pleasantries.

"That's why I'm calling Sir, would it be possible for you to pick her up?" Miss Judith requested kindly.

"Is she sick?" Damon inquired.

"She insists that she's not feeling well, she's complaining of headaches, pain in her stomach," his daughter's kindergarten teacher informed him.

"Have you checked her temperature?" Damon questioned.

"I have," Judith replied. "She doesn't seem to be ill, I had the nurse check her out too and there doesn't seem to be a serious issue but it's just-"

"What? It's just what?" Damon questioned, still concerned.

"She's upset, Mister S-"

"Damon, call me Damon," Damon interjected, calming down a bit.

"There's something wrong, Damon. But I've had Sophie in my class for weeks now, she's always happy and playful, participating in every game or activity… But ever since your wife-" Judith swallowed audibly, unable to finished the sentence in the deafening silence.

"Lately Sophie just stares straight ahead in class. I can't make her smile, can't get her engaged in the stories we tell, the games we play. And this morning she insisted that she was ill and I-, I can't help but think that it might not be the worst idea if you'd decide to keep her home for a day or two… "

A pained sigh fell from Damon's lips. _He knew_. He knew his little girl wasn't the same lately, but to have someone else confirm it, wasn't exactly what he'd been waiting to hear. "Do you think she'll feel better if she's home? Isn't there a routine kind of thing we have to take into account or something?" Damon demanded.

"She just fell asleep in the nurse's office, Mist-, Damon. She's exhausted. She says she's been having nightmares. We can't place her among the other kids like this. She's not ok. I don't know what to recommend, but I do believe if would be best for her if you could pick her up. Would you-"

"I'm on my way," Damon quickly decided, before heading out of his office while shrugging his jacket back on, Elena completely forgotten.

**xXx**

"Sophie!" Jessica squealed enthusiastically from behind her desk, smiling broadly at the sight of the adorable five-year-old holding her father's hand as they both passed the reception desk.

"Hi," Sophie replied shyly.

"You've gotten so big! Last time I saw you, you were still a baby. I can't believe it's been so long. Don't you have school today?" Jessica started to gush, a whirlwind of words coming out of her mouth at an unstoppable rate.

"She doesn't," Damon replied chipped, holding his daughter's hand a little tighter. "She simply wanted to see the office again," he added evenly.

"Oh I understand. Your daddy does have a big office, doesn't he?" Jessica babbled, watching Sophie. "He has to share it with a new assistant now though, have you met Elena yet?" she wondered. "Oh probably not, huh? Elena's only been here for a few days. She looks a little like your Mommy. Funny, isn't it? How is your mom by the way? Is she doing fine? I haven't seen her in a while. I think I last saw her in the mall, it's four months ago already I guess. I waved at her but I'm not sure if she recognized me. Did she say anything to you, Damon? Has she mentioned th-"

Sophie's eyes went wide and for a moment she just stared, her feet stopping as if they were nailed to the ground. Damon instantly picked her up, wordlessly carrying her on his hip to the nearest elevator. Sophie didn't make a sound, nor did she cling to him like she usually did. She was simply undergoing what was happening, staring at Jessica until the heavy metal doors closed, blocking her view.

"Hey baby, are you alright?" Damon whispered softly once they we both locked inside the silver cabin.

"She said she s-, saw Mommy…" Sophie uttered confused.

"I know, sweetie, I know," Damon soothed her, stroking her hair.

"Is Mommy coming back?" Sophie questioned in a small voice, her chocolate brown eyes burning into Damon's blue ones the second she met his gaze.

"No." Damon replied simply, holding her closer. "Mommy's not coming back…" he admitted. "But we _are_ going to be alright," he promised, before carrying her to his office on the fourth floor.

As soon as they were both inside, Damon set his little girl on top of his desk, smiling down at her with four markers in his hand. "Do you know what these are?" Damon questioned, forcing his voice to come out cheerful.

"Markers." A small smile played across Sophie's lips. Usually she wasn't allowed to play with markers, just pencils, _but pencils were so boring_.

"I have to go talk to uncle Ric for a minute. How would you like to decorate my placemat?" Damon wondered, pointing at the spotless white placemat that served for writing down notes and appointments.

"Really?" Sophie double-checked, lighting up already.

"Really," Damon promised. "I'll be just a second, alright?" Sophie nodded.

**xXx**

After six minutes Sophie began to shift uncomfortably in the big chair which stood in front of the desk. She was on her knees, her shoes neatly lined up next to the chair, so she didn't leave any soil on the leather. She had to go to the bathroom. She _really_ had to go, but since her dad wasn't back yet, she waited. _And waited_.

One minute later, though, she couldn't hold it any longer and slipped of the chair, heading for the door. She opened it carefully, holding her hand above her head in order to reach the handle. The hallway was empty and on her socks, she hastily made her way to the other side, sliding the last bit. _She loved to slide on polished floors_.

She skidded to a stop in front of two heavy doors. One with the image of a boy, one with a girl. _Bingo_, she thought, as she reached up high for the left handle. The door was heavier than her father's had been though and she couldn't get it to open up wide enough.

**xXx**

Elena enjoyed the comforting and grounding feeling of cool tiles underneath her fingertips. She wasn't one to be late. _She couldn't be late_. So she hadn't been late. At 8:59 precisely she had swiped her card at the reception. _She'd been on time_. Whether that meant she was allowed to spend her workday hiding out on the floor of a bathroom stall however, was debatable to say the least.

A deep sigh fell from her lips as she watched the door handle. _She could do this. She had to do this_. She would straighten her dress, walk tall, and be the young and confident girl she knew she could be.

_Tomorrow. Perhaps_. Her shoulders slumped again.

_Come on, you're going to get fired_, she kept telling herself. _What a pep-talk_. She chuckled humorously.

Reluctantly she unlocked the door of her stall and moved to the sink to splash some cold water onto her wrists and cheeks. She had a habit of fainting whenever she was stressed and cold water always seemed to help. Before she could even reach the tap however, a soft clicking noise startled her.

She quickly scanned the room for company, but there was no one there. It was only logical, there weren't that many women on their floor to begin with. The clicking noise resumed however, louder than before, and suddenly Elena noticed the door handle moving.

Up and down. Up and down. Except for the fact that the door never actually opened. After staring one more moment, Elena moved forward and opened up the door, swinging it forcefully, accidentally sending the five-year-old on the other side flying inside from impact.

**xXx**

Elena watched, startled, as a little girl stumbled forwards onto the tiles. She quickly crouched to pick the child up, rushing out an apology: "I'm so sorry, so, so sorry! I had no idea there was anyone on the other side of that door. Are you ok? Did I hurt you?"

Sophie looked up confused, tilting her head as took in her new surroundings. "I just really have to use the bathroom, Miss," she mumbled ultimately, before allowing Elena to help her up. "Will you please unbutton the top button? It's a difficult one..." she insisted, her father was nowhere to be found.

Elena obliged after about three seconds, since that was the moment when it dawned on her that the girl was being serious. "Of course," she mumbled kindly, before kneeling and fumbling with the small jeans.

"And could you help? There is no step-stool," Sophie continued, eying the toilet which was about double as high as those she had access to in her preschool. Elena nodded, a little dazed. She didn't have kids of her own, nor did she have any experience with them. Helping the child somehow felt like a violation of the kid's privacy to her, yet the five-year-old in front of her seemed to disagree. Elena politely turned her head away, although she didn't close the door of the stall.

The sound of water trickling down broke the silence. "_Just on time_," the five-year-old sing-songed relieved. Elena couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her lips.

"Daddy will be happy about that," the child added seemingly lost in thoughts.

"Can you get down yourself?" Elena wondered out loud.

"Hmm," Sophie affirmed. "But I'm not tall enough to wash my hands over there," she explained. It wasn't really a necessary comment, however, seeing the sink was placed at the child's height. "My Mommy really wants me to wash my hands when I use the bathroom."

Elena pondered the situation for a moment, taking in all forty inches of the little girl in front of her. "How old are you, by the way?" she questioned curiously after Sophie had shimmied her jeans all the way up again.

"Five. I just had my birthday," Sophie informed her with a broad smile. She stepped closer for Elena to button up the top again. "I got a kitten," she added.

"That's nice. Would you like me to pick you up so you can wash your hands?" Elena inquired.

"Yes please!" the child accepted the offer eagerly.

"How polite," Elena commented, lifting the little girl, so she could reach the tap. You were raised well, weren't you? Your parents did a good job," Elena noted smiling. She was surprised, yet pleased by young Sophie's manners. Elena was well aware of the fact that not every young child was that well-behaved. Aa single evening standing in line in the local supermarket was quite enough to prove that point.

"Daddy," Sophie corrected.

"Huh?" Elena mumbled, absentmindedly setting the small child on the counter next to the sink so she could grab her some paper towels.

"Daddy did a good job," Sophie explained.

Elena simply chuckled, not seeking any deeper meaning behind that statement.

"So, what's your name?" Elena inquired, feeling it might be time for a proper introduction.

"I'm Sophie," the small child informed Elena.

"Sophie, that means-"

"Smart!" Sophie completed the sentence with a huge grin.

"Wisdom, actually," Elena corrected, "which is even better than being smart in my opinion," she added on the side.

"What's your name?" Sophie wondered out loud.

"Elena," was the swift reply that followed.

"That's funny!" Sophie squealed happily.

"What's funny about that?" Elena inquired.

"The girl at the reception said something about you, that you looked like my Mommy. You do look a little like Mommy," Sophie explained, reaching out her hand to stroke Elena's hair. "Your hair is soft too," Sophie mused.

Elena couldn't help but smile at the innocent and sweet gesture. "I bet yours is too," she replied, picking Sophie up and putting her down again.

"So, Sophie, where do you belong? Are you a little lost out here?" she inquired, realizing that there was probably a parent somewhere looking for the little girl.

"I belong in school," Sophie mumbled a little ruefully.

"Right. School. Why aren't you in school now, then?" Elena inquired.

"Because I was sad and I told Daddy I was sick and he picked me up," Sophie admitted honestly.

"Where's your Daddy now, is he looking for you?" Elena asked concerned, wanting to bring the child back to her father.

"_He is in a meeting_. But he always _meets_ long and I had to pee," Sophie explained. "I had to stay in his office," she added a little shyly.

"Alright." Elena nodded, considering what to do next. "Well, if your father is indeed _in__ a_ meeting then it's indeed possible he'll be a while. How about this: I can take you to the break-room and warm up some chocolate-milk while you wait for him, he'll surely find you there," Elena suggested.

"I like chocolate-milk," Sophie informed her, beaming up at Elena through long lashes. "Let's go!" she added eagerly. A warm feeling spread through Elena at the sensation of the five little fingers curled around her ring- and index-finger. It was such a nice and oddly comforting gesture. The child's innocent faith in her, the genuine kindness and instant friendship... _those were the kind of things money just couldn't buy_.

**xXx**

Tenderly, Elena picked her little friend up again once they arrived in the kitchen. She placed the little girl on the edge of the counter next to the fridge where she had a clear view of the hallway.

"Why were you sad?" Elena wondered after a moment of silence. The little girl's words kept running through her head since she still couldn't make sense of them.

"Sad?" Sophie repeated, tilting her head in question.

"You told me that your dad picked you up from school because you were sad," Elena reminded her.

"Ow, yes," Sophie recalled. She was silent for a moment. "I don't like school," she murmured after a while.

"Why is that?" Elena inquired, stirring the chocolate milk before handing it over.

"Because school is waiting. And waiting. _And waiting_. And then you are happy when they pick you up. And then you're scared that they _don't_ pick you up. And it's waiting. _And waiting_. I just didn't want to wait today," Sophie explained with a shrug.

_Scared that they don't pick you up_, the phrase kept ringing in Elena's ears. There was something about the casual, though pained way the little girl had said those words that made it impossible for Elena to hear anything beyond that.

_Scared that they don't pick you up_, as if it were a remote possibly.

"Are your mom and dad late then, when they're supposed to pick you up?" Elena couldn't help but probe gingerly.

Sophie nodded. "Very late…" she mumbled heavily, taking a long sip from the cup in her hands.

Elena tucked a loose strand of hair behind the little girl's ears. "You know… my parents were late sometimes too when I was younger, but it's not that bad, you know? The next time it happens, you can just sing a song or two and then they'll be there before you know it," she comforted the little girl.

"That's a lot of songs…" Sophie mused.

"Sometimes," Elena agreed, sitting on top of the corner next to the little girl.

"My Mommy is still gone," the little girl suddenly added, barely above a whisper. Elena looked up at her in surprise.

"What?" she questioned.

"My Mommy never picked me up again," Sophie told her, meeting her eyes with an even and unfazed expression, as if she was simply telling Elena that her socks were pink.

Elena was too baffled to respond.

"That's why I was waiting." Sophie explained. "But she never comes."

"When did she bring you to school exactly?" Elena asked concerned, needing confirmation before her head went to various dark places.

"When I was four," Sophie replied.

Elena didn't ask anything _else. __No how or why or when._ She didn't know what to say_. _So she simply wrapped her arms around the small child and pulled her slightly into her side. She was acting purely on instinct, not even realizing what she was doing until five small fingers curled around the fabric near her belly and a slim body snuggled a little closer.

"You smell nice," Sophie mused, mumbling against Elena's dress.

"You have cute socks," Elena replied simply, not letting her go.

If there was a manual on how to deal with children's emotions, she sure didn't get a copy. Instead they just stayed put for quite some time. And Elena watched, watched the little girl that seemed to have enclosed her in her five-year-old heart already. _Kids._

_Oh how she wished she'd have a daughter herself one day…_

**xXx**

"Sophie's not feeling well," Damon informed Ric the second he rounded the corner of the General Manager's office.

"Flu season, huh?" Ric commented, not even bothering to look up from his stack of files.

"No… It's euhm-, it's more like… Like she's feeling e-, emotional-" Damon managed.

Ric looked up from behind his laptop, eying Damon with raised eyebrows.

"Emotional? Never thought I'd ever hear you say that word out loud." Ric grinned.

"Shut it," Damon ordered dryly.

"Oooh, don't be embarrassed buddy. It's not a dirty word you know." He snickered.

"Oh cut it out already!" Damon mumbled irritated. "I'm serious." He glazed. "Sophie's _feeling_ things and she needs someone to talk to… so I was thinking you and you're fluffy, mushy heart could take her for a stroll through the park or something," Damon prompted evenly.

"Whoa, thanks for the compliment, I'm truly touched," Ric replied, holding his hand over his heart to prove his point. "But as much as I love your little girl: she's your kid. I think she needs _you,_" Ric reminded him dryly.

"Come on Ric, I'm worthle_ss when it comes to the girly-girly things. I like it __straight__ and __to the point__._ No need to talk for hours and hours, rehashing feelings. But that doesn't work on Soph, I tried."

Ric huffed. "She's a girl, Damon. _Your girl_. Perhaps you might consider putting in some effort…" Ric retorted.

"I can't. Ok!" Damon nearly shouted. "Because the first and the last thing she ever brings up is her mother. And I'm not so good with her sad young magical eyes poking holes in my head. It kills me. She needs a parent who can hold it together for a change," Damon managed.

"Besides: our conversations never last over two minutes. I'm a guy's guy Ric, I didn't inherit the feelings-gene."

Ric sighed deeply. "How about your sister?" he wondered.

"Out of town," Damon replied, crossing his arms. "And no one else knows, remember?" Damon urged, aggravated.

"Well, perhaps telling people would be a start then, don't you think, genius?" Ric asked his friend animatedly.

"No." Damon replied automatically.

"Why. Not?" Ric demanded, becoming gradually more annoyed at his friend's behaviour.

"For starters: because they'll ask _questions_, duh…" Damon insisted, rolling his eyes.

"Then _answer_ the questions," Ric deadpanned.

"There. Are. No. Answers." Damon spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable separately.

"Oh there are," Ric mused, "You just don't want to acknowledge them," Ric sing-songed, tempting Damon.

"You're an ass," Damon mumbled.

"And you're in denial," Ric shot back.

"I'm not. I know what's happening. I just don't need hours and hours to rehash the facts," Damon retorted bitterly, though the reply didn't come as swiftly as he had hoped it would have, diminishing the impact of his words.

"Fine. Give me the facts. Short and simple," Ric challenged.

"Yeah, we're not doing that right now, I'm not the issue here," Damon deadpanned.

"Ok. Different subject. Why don't you sum up the facts regarding you and Elena? That's clearly an issue here…" Ric insisted.

"_None_ of your business." Damon flashed his eyes menacingly at Ric.

"See, that's where you're wrong, buddy. That's quite literally my business," he remarked, refusing to break eye contact. Damon just stared back though. _Because everything had to be a contest_.

"I've had enough. Sophie's waiting in my office. I'm finishing up the documents for Sea Real Estate and then we're having a loooong weekend," Damon informed his boss, effectively ending the conversation by leaving the office.

"Damon, come on, you-"

"Not listening," Damon sing-songed pulling the door behind him closed.

**xXx**

"Sophie, I'm so sorry that took so long," Damon apologized when he entered his office. "Uncle Ric was being a bully and I-" "Sophie?" he questioned, taking in the empty room.

"Baby, are you playing hide and seek?" Damon inquired, quickly scanning the room for his little girl, whose shoes were still neatly lined up next to his leather chair. He took a look at his placemat, Sophie had barely touched it. Suddenly anxiety grabbed hold of him, and he became increasingly nervous.

"Sophie are you here? Come out! Soph I'm serious, Daddy's worried, come out?" There was no reply, no little girl appearing form behind the curtains. Moreover, the more Damon came to think of it, his daughter wasn't that good at finding a hiding spot in the first place; she was still too young.

_She wasn't there_. The idea hit him like a freight train. Sophie was a good girl, and he'd told her to stay put. She wouldn't leave by herself, not without his permission. Damon rushed to the hallway. "Sophie!" she called.

That's when he spotted her, in the break room on the counter. Her eyes were closed as she leaned into Elena's embrace. Elena. Of course it had to be Elena of all people.

Damon opened the door briskly. "Sophie!" he demanded. The child's eyes snapped open. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, holding out her arms for her father to pick her up. Damon stepped closer and when his eyes met Elena's, they both looked down almost reflexively, as if struck by lightning.

"Daddy, this is Elena," Sophie introduced her new friend. Damon picked her up wordlessly, cradling her tightly against his chest. The second he had her in his arms he turned around, turning his back to his assistant.

"Elena, this is my Daddy," Sophie completed, watching Elena's baffled expression from over her father's shoulder.

It only took Damon three long strides to cross the distance from the counter back to the door. He was gone in the blink of an eye, Sophie was still waving her small hand when the door slammed shut.

One step. Two steps. Deep breaths. Damon reminded himself before heading back to Ric's office and entering without as much as a knock. He was seething, blood boiling in his veins and all that kept him grounded were the little fingers running through his hair.

"Damon?" Ric questioned.

"Need a moment," Damon managed, his voice strained. "Hold onto her for a moment. Don't let her out of your sight."

"Damon-"

"Not out of your sight. Not for a second. Got that?" Damon insisted seriously, eyes blazing enough for Ric to know he had no choice but to obey.

It took Damon seconds instead of minutes to reach the break-room again, wordlessly grabbing Elena by her wrist and drag her to their office. Both doors closed shortly after one another with a loud bang. Elena was dazed and Damon couldn't seem to calm himself down.

"ARE YOU RETARDED? Was the first thing he demanded, his voice far too loud.

"What?"

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded again. "You know that we have issues. You know I do not trust you and then you show up late and take my daughter for a stroll?! Do you have any idea what that's like as a parent?!" his voice boomed through the room.

"Damon, Sophie-"

"-would NEVER leave my desk on her own! I know her. I raised her. She does not disobey orders. And you dragging her around was a bad move, Elena. A really bad move! What did you hope to accomplish? Befriending her? Interrogating her? Or where you just trying to scare me, show me how much power you can hold? I'd be careful if I were you," Damon threatened.

"She was out of your office when we met! She had to go to the toilet!" Elena defended herself loudly.

Damon didn't falter and redirected his attack. "So you thought she'd be a viable source of information huh? The ideal way for you to snoop around in my life. My daughter is a HUMAN BEING Elena, keep her out of your sick and twisted mind-tricks, she deserves better!" Damon roared on.

"I DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS YOURS!" Elena suddenly shouted back, almost spitting in his face. That seemed to ground Damon for a moment.

"I met a little girl in a bathroom. She needed help to climb onto the stool. I didn't know she was yours, I didn't steal her away. I helped her. She asked me to," Elena explained urgently.

"She asked," Damon repeated the words evenly, letting them sink in. He let go of the wrist he'd been holding onto, releasing her from his grasp. "Sorry," he mumbled barely audible. "I was-"

"It's ok," Elena replied relieved, massaging the slightly red skin.

"I shouldn't have-, I-" Embarrassment spread through Damon like wildfire and he grew slightly uncomfortable. He had reasons to be so anxious, Sophie had been taken from him once before, but Elena didn't know about that of course, all she saw was a controlling father.

"Hey," Elena insisted softly, searching for his eyes. "It's ok, Damon," she insisted "It happened, she's fine, we move on."  
Damon nodded gratefully and took a seat on top of his desk.

"Sophie-, she's… everything," Damon mused, still coming down from the initial shock.

Elena smiled warmly. "I can see that…" she whispered.

They were quiet for a moment, allowing the tension to leave the room.

"Damon?" Elena tried softly, after a while.

"Yeah?" he replied evenly.

"What happened to your wife?"

**xXx**

_I know a girl  
She puts the colour inside of my world  
But, she's just like a maze  
Where all of the walls all continually change  
And I've done all I can  
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hand  
Now I'm starting to see  
Maybe It's got nothing to do with me_

**_xXx_**


	4. The pretender

_**xXx**_

_The secrets that you keep are ever ready  
Are _you _ready?_

**_xXx_**

"Damon, what happened to your wife?" Elena asked softly.

Six little words placed in the exact right order,  
spoken by the right person,  
perhaps even at the right time.

It was one simple question and it had a simple reply, but that reply never came and suddenly Damon's universe seemed to shift, in a fraction of a second.

A new mission came into focus, as temperature, sound and vision all blurred into the background for a fraction of a second. _Defense_. Suddenly all there was left to do was _contain_.

If we're able to anticipate the attack, we can prepare. We brace ourselves for the storm and when it hits, we're ready. We don't cry when we open the box of old letters, we peacefully put the flowers on top of the grave…

When the bomb drops out of nowhere, though, all we can do is try not to get crushed or blown to pieces. As soon as we register the impact, we have to cut our losses, pack the open wounds. Cover. Up. We contain the damage to the brief flow of emotions flashing across our features.

Our mouths stay shut to conceal the tremor in our voices, palms turned downwards as they started feeling far too hot. We do whatever it takes, no holding back, because the second we stop fighting and allow that surge of adrenaline to leave our system, we'll collapse. We. Will. Collapse. _No matter where we are. Regardless of who's watching._

Damon didn't move, he didn't breathe. For a moment he just froze, fighting his involuntary responses. It was no use, however, he realized, as he saw Elena's eyes melt. She could see right through him and he was _caught_. Caught by her eyes.

Caught by the enemy, lured into a trap.  
Or caught by a saviour, right before hitting the ground after a fall.

Damon couldn't tell which, he couldn't tell up from down anymore. He was _feeling_ things. And Mister Damon Salvatore didn't do too well with _feelings_.

"Damon, did Sophie's mother pass away?" Elena inquired softly, offering him a yes or no question so he could answer with a simple nod. Damon shook his head slightly, his lips a firm line as he pressed his teeth together. His right hand was within Elena's reach, but she didn't dare to take it, even though she wanted to. He was having a hard time and she was already walking a fine line.

"Damon…" Elena allowed his name to linger for a moment.

_"Damon… what happened?" the familiar warm voice all but breathed in his ear. He cursed himself for his concerned eyes, his tapping foot and his nervous demeanour. He wasn't _that _guy, the guy who needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to. It was all bullshit. Problems didn't go magically vanish into thin air simply by talking about them._

_That was the problem with dating women. Young. Mature. Naïve or educated. If there was one thing they all had in common, it was the fact that any one of them could spot emotions from a mile away. Drama. _Alert_. Sometimes he felt like they had a sixth sense for that kind of thing. Women loved drama._

_"Damon, are you ok?" Elena tried gingerly, instinctively sensing his distress._

_"No," Damon replied, deciding honestly might be the best approach after all._

_"Do you want to talk about it?" Elena asked softly._

_"No," Damon retorted, equally swift, pulling her in his lap as he spoke the words, to avoid hurting her feelings._

_"Damon…" Elena drew._

_"Elena, I'm a man, remember? The sex that generally says what they mean instead of the exact opposite. I'm simple that way. When I say 'No', I honestly mean: 'No, let's NOT discuss it.'," Damon insisted._

_"But I _want _to know," Elena pressed. "You've been acting strange all week and I-, I-"_

_To be young. In love. And insecure… A deep sigh escaped Damon's lips._

_"It has nothing to do with you, Elena, honestly. I've just been having a hard week, that's all," Damon tried to reassure her._

_Suddenly the sound of a snapping twig caught his attention and he moved to sit next to Elena, their skin no longer touching._

_"You're doing it again!" Elena accused. "You've been avoiding me all week… First you won't kiss me, then you don't want be seen with me around school, now you can't even touch me. If we're over then just tell me!" Elena snapped emotionally._

_Again. To be young. In love. And insecure. Damon thought._

_His cautious and focused stare softened and he tenderly grabbed hold of his girlfriend's hand. "If I tell you, then that's it, alright? You do not get to worry about _my _problems, or undertake any actions to fight _my _battles. If I tell you, then that's where our conversation stops. You'll let it go and let me handle it. Understood?" Damon questioned seriously._

_Elena hesitated for a moment but realized she had no option but to take the offer. "Fine," she conceded._

_"They know." Damon replied simply._

_Elena's eyes widened in horror. "But they don't even _know _me!" Elena exclaimed. "And we haven't-, we-" she stammered._

_"It doesn't matter, Elena, people create their own truth. It's not about the facts, but about the way people interpret them. This is politics. He who writes the story holds the power…" Damon's voice trailed off._

_"They can't do that! We didn't do anything wrong!" Elena insisted._

_"They have pictures," Damon admitted softly, "We've been followed. I found them today in the mailbox," he added ruefully._

_"They can't do that! It's not fair. We. Didn't. Do. Anything. I mean, why are we even being cautious and patient if it doesn't matter in the end?!" Elena spat out angrily._

_"Because you _deserve _cautious and patient…" Damon whispered, calming her down and breaking the anxious haze for a moment. It grounded Elena enough to clear her mind._

_"What did your father say?" Elena asked gingerly, eyes tormented and apologetic._

_"My father loves you, he doesn't blame you. He doesn't blame me either, he's just… trying to find us a way out of this. If those pictures are leaked to the press… Elections are coming up you know. We all know what a scandal would mean."_

_"Maybe we should-"_

_"No. We will not be intimidated. I've considered all the options and I've made my decision," Damon interrupted her, trying to sound determinedly. He knew she heard his voice waver, though, heard the silent fear seeping in. She knew he couldn't lose her, because those melted eyes of hers saw right through him._

_"Damon?" he heard her ask tenderly._

"Damon?"

How did she do that? How did she always manage to do that? Unhinge him, make his stance falter. Damon recovered from his little reverie and analysed the situation. They were in his office, face to face and she had him back into a corner, taken control of the situation.

His walls had been down for a moment too long and the shield of indifference he had been hiding behind was now weakened, flickering. At this point he had two options: retaliated full force or surrender. _There was no alternative_.

_Lock her in or block her out_. Damon couldn't decide which. A part of him yearned for her, longed for a true friend. If he could just not be alone for a moment, or trust her again… he could confide in her, be loved by her, offer his daughter something she'd been missing… The possibilities were endless, the future bright. _If only_.

If only there wasn't that part of him that was about to explode. The part of him that had gotten hurt and never fully recovered. If only he could forget about what she'd done to him, how she had ruined him for anyone else, ever. That part of him just craved a fight. It was in battle-mode: _protect Sophie and protect yourself_. Attack the enemy and hit them where it hurts.

Damon eyed her wearily, his senses picking up where they left off. The clock started ticking again and he saw her fingers tremble slightly, betraying her.

_Poker_, he remarked. Elena was playing poker, just like him. Except for the fact that she had no options anymore, she'd gone all-in the second she'd asked about his wife.

"Damon?" She called. He had one final chance to fold.

Damon hesitated for a moment, by now he knew he could call her on her bluff, bring her to her knees. The main question was: _did he want to?_

"Yes, E-le-na," he drew, his voice charming and collected as he let the syllables roll of his tongue.

Elena shifted her weight nervously. Her expression faltered, eyes weary. He was going to put her down and she was like a deer caught in headlights.

_Mercy_? "I didn't want to pry, Damon, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I was simply… concerned." She was backpedalling. _She knew she lost_, Damon realized.

"Pry?" Damon repeated, his voice far too sweet, the fake kind. "Is that what you'd call it?" he inquired.

Elena didn't made a sound.

"Tell me, Elena, do you ask all of your superiors about their personal lives?" he inquired suspiciously. "Do you have a habit of making your voice all soft and warm, when you work with male company? Is that _your thing_? Because if it is, I can surely understand how you got all these glowing recommendations…" he mused viciously. Damon was still hurting, but up till now Elena simply hadn't realized how much.

"Twenty-five years old and gorgeous, staring deeply into her bosses eyes. Tell me, how did _that_ work out for you in the past? The charm, the innocent and caring act... Were there many lonely men over at Gardner &amp; Perch[CVD1] ?" Damon implied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Her showing up was twisting the knife in his chest deeper and now he was retaliating.

Elena felt sedated. Dazed.

"Perhaps you should have added that to your resume. In our business you could surely list that under 'skills', don't you agree?" he asked.

"Stop. Damon, pl-" she was ready to plead, but he wouldn't stop.

"No. I am not Mister Michelson [CVD2] and I'm not _interested_," Damon continued, stressing the last word. Elena's face turned ashen and she could feel the fog filling her head.

"But he and I, we-" Elena murmured startled. How did Damon even know about that? Had he kept track of her over the years?

"I don't care. In fact I really couldn't care less. It's only your second day here and you've already overstepped the boundaries. You have some nerve, Miss Gilbert," Damon spoke animatedly. "Let's set you straight, though, I'm not the womanizer you claim to have met in high school, I'm your boss and I'd like to do my job in peace. Will that be a problem for you?" he demanded.

Elena simply stared.

"Great. File the folders you read through last night, then start sifting through the neighbour complaints. Read them, organize them, then look up the respective senders and go charm them out of filing a lawsuit."

"Damon, I'm not-"

"_Mister_ Salvatore," Damon corrected, "I think you'd better start there if you'd like to keep this job!" he told her determinedly, his tone not leaving any room for discussion.

"You're taking things too-"

"I'll be taking on the female neighbours, Elena. And contrary to what you appear to believe this is an _actual_ part of your job-description," Damon informed her, bending the implication behind his words slightly, he was threading thin ice by now.

"Fine," Elena snapped, turning her back on him. She wouldn't allow herself to be pulled into the discussion, she wasn't about to let him walk all over her, _not a chance_. With her head shakily held high, she took place in front of her own desk, starting the task that she'd been given.

"And euhm, Elena?" Damon inquired.

There was no response. Elena stubbornly typed in her password, unlocking her laptop. She didn't have time for any more of his shenanigans.

"For the record: don't ever bring up my personal life again," he informed her evenly, before paying attention to his work again.

**xXx**

_What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I will never surrender?_

**xXx**

Ric's office

_"Need a moment," Damon managed, his voice strained. "Hold onto her for a moment. Don't let her out of your sight."_

_"Damon-"_

_"Not out of your sight. Got that?" Damon insisted seriously, eyes blazing enough for Ric to know he had no choice but to obey._

The door of Ric's office slammed shut with a loud bang.

"Daddy's mad," Sophie whispered, it was merely an observation.

Ric's eyes quickly scanned Sophie for any traces of harm, he found none.

"What the h-," he cleared his throat and lowered his voice to a more even pitch, "What happened?" he inquired, eying Sophie intently.

"Nothing," Sophie replied innocently. "I was drinking hot cocoa with Elena in the kitchen and then Daddy picked me up," she informed him.

"Is that all?" Ric insisted.

"Yes Uncle Ric," Sophie promised obediently.

"Then why was your father so angry? Did Elena say anything? Did your Mom call?" Ric pressed.

"No." Sophie shook her head.

"So your Dad left you in the kitchen with Elena and then he came back and he was angry?" Ric wondered confused.

"No, I was playing in his office. And then I had to pee. And then Elena was there. And then Elena took me to the kitchen. And-"

Suddenly it dawned on Ric: "Elena _took you_ to the kitchen?" he repeated.

Sophie nodded and Ric shook his head.

When Sophie tilted her head in question he clarified: "I think your Dad was afraid you were on _a trip_ again…" he explained.

"Like when Mommy picked me up from school?" Sophie wondered.

_More like when Mommy stole you away for 36 hours before deciding she'd played enough with your father's mental health,_ Ric mentally amended. He vividly remembered the hours and hours they'd driven around town, right before a car stopped right next to them, letting Sophie step out before driving away rather fast without a fuss.

"Exactly," was all he replied.

**xXx**

"How is Tiger?" Ric inquired after a long moment, attempting to break the sudden tension.

"Daddy bought him a cage. And toys. And a blanket. I gave him Olaf and I promised him I would be back soon," Sophie shrugged.

"Good thinking," Ric congratulated her, pulling the little girl into his lap.

"Do you think Daddy's really, really mad at Elena because we made a trip?" Sophie inquired, revisiting the previous subject.

"Honestly, sweety, I have a feeling Daddy and Elena need to talk about a whole lot more than just your little trip to the kitchen," Ric mused.

**xXx**

Damon stared at Sophie's picture on his desk, lost in thoughts. He wanted to pick her up and take her home, but he knew he needed to calm down first. Sophie didn't need a seething father, she needed him calm and collected.

_Yeah, right. There wouldn't be anything calm about him as long as he had to face Elena day after day. Why did she have to come and turn his world upside down? _He could do without all that extra tension. _He had suffered and he'd recovered, who was she to show up out of the blue and rip open the wounds he'd so carefully packed?_

Elena was being very quiet, sifting through papers and writing down notes on coloured post-its. She looked so innocent and he almost felt guilt for hurting her the way he just had. _Almost_. But life wasn't fair by any means, not for her and not for him_. She shouldn't be there, shouldn't taunt him like that_.

She'd promised him so many things, whispered all the words he'd needed to hear. But that was before she'd killed the little light that used to burn inside of his chest. She'd shattered his heart and he kept cutting himself trying to clean up the mess. _No. He didn't feel guilty. She didn't have to be in his office. She should have left once she found out he'd be forced to be her boss. That would have been the human thing to do._

"Caroline," Damon broke the silence, picking up the phone in his office on the first ring. Elena suddenly shifted her posture. She remembered Damon's sister like it was yesterday, they used to be best friends in high school. That was a long time ago, Care had cut all ties with her after the little trick Elena had pulled on Damon.

"Yes, like a million times already. What the hell were you doing?" Damon demanded irritated.

"Care, if you wanna bang your boyfriend, you can just do that in your apartment, no need to _travel around the world_ for that," Damon deadpanned.

"Same difference," he muttered dryly to whatever his sister replied.

"Fine, I'll keep it short. I need you to Skype with Soph tonight, you know: the cute five-year old you just bought a living pooping doll, remember?" Damon couldn't help the little dig towards Tiger, he really wasn't that much of a fan of the meowing monster his sister had brought into their home. "That is if you can manage to keep your clothes on for two minutes, of course," he added irritated.

Elena could only imagine the stream of insults Caroline was surely sending her big brother's way at that. "Potato, potato," Damon snickered.

"No, seriously Care, Soph needs to talk to someone. Someone with _feelings_, hence: _not me_. She misses _her Mom_, and since you're always tattering on the brink of an epic breakdown, I'm figuring you'll do," Damon spoke bitterly.

Elena sat close enough to hear Caroline's '_screw you'_, boom through Damon's speakers.

"Yeah, I love you too sis. Skype at five tonight. Don't be late, she has bedtime," he replied.

"Care? Caroline?" Caroline appeared to have hung up on him and Elena snickered.

"What?" Damon demanded.

"Nothing," Elena mumbled, refocusing on the papers. She still remembered Damon's little fights with his sister, the two of them loved to bickered. She knew Damon knew that she remembered, but she didn't say a thing.

"Oh don't act like you know me. You don't know _anything_ about me," Damon bit back, glaring at her.

"I know you appear to be out of your depth with Sophie," Elena challenged. They'd already hit rock bottom as it was, it wasn't like she do make it worse. Damon was out of ammunition. _He had to be_.

"Let's blame that on my poor choice in women," Damon shot back promptly, making a face. _Focus and score_.

"Can we freeze the moment for a second?" Elena inquired suddenly, on a different tone.

"What?" Damon demanded.

"I said: can we press pause for a minute? As in: stop the hurtful comments and insults and be human for about 60 seconds?" she requested.

Damon quirked his eyebrows at her. When he didn't reply she continued anyway. "I can talk to her if you'd like," she suggested evenly. "Sophie. My dad left, I know what it's like. So if you need someone to spend some time with her and have a chat, I think I can help," Elena offered, meeting his eyes. "I like her, we got along."

"_You_, want to talk to _my_ daughter?" Damon recapitulated incredulously.

"If you can refrain from referring to me as a _slut_ for a day or two," Elena amended.

"Are you kidding me?" Damon demanded, perplexed. "Is there seriously a part of you that thinks I'll _ever_ let _you_ worm your way into my daughter's heart?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

He'd been, there. He'd done that. He was the one who had gotten attached to Elena only to end up with a gaping hole in his heart in the end. _Sophie didn't need that_. There was no recovering from losing Elena. It was a fate he didn't wi_sh _on anyone_, __especially not his precious little girl._

Elena was done with his insults though, she'd really had enough, "Yes, _Mister Salvatore_, I do believe that. Because I'm your assistant _and you only met me yesterday_. And ever since that first moment I've been nothing but polite and kind and considerate towards you, while you've been completely unreasonable and degrading. _As far as you know I'm a picture perfect person,_ _we do not have a history_, so why wouldn't you let me talk to her?" Elena challenged, raising one eyebrow as she turned the tables on him.

"You've got some nerve," Damon spoke menacingly, unable to come up with anything else.

"No, _you've_ got some nerve. Had you been paired with _any_ other assistant and pulled this on her, I am certain she would have filed a lawsuit by now. _With good reason_," Elena continued.

"You are not any other assistant." Damon spoke slowly, with a very low voice.

Elena shook her head and huffed. "Ooooh, no," Elena warned. "You cannot have your cake and eat it too. _Either you remember. Or you don't_. Which one will it be, Damon? Pick," Elena taunted him, sick of his games.

Damon stared at her, completely perplexed. _Where was the sweet, gentle girl he'd once fallen for._

The seconds ticked by and no words were spoken until Elena softened her voice, "Once upon a time there was a fifteen year old girl, who loved a boy with whole her heart …" [CVD3] she started, reciting the first lines of a letter Damon still cherished. _A letter set in an era where Elena used to adore poetry and Damon still believed in love. _Needless to say_: a long time ago._

"That girl was young and foolish, perhaps. But she knows she's made a mistake," Elena continued. "And the heart that got torn apart in the process, is still the most expensive thing she's ever broken," Elena whispered.

"_That girl_ would like to apologize, to explain, and for a while there she was prepared to take many hits, just for the opportunity to have that one final conversation. _But no more_. Because the guy from the story, that mature and caring man, she's never seen him again," Elena finished, bittersweet.

Damon swallowed audibly, he hadn't seen any of it coming.

"You're right, _Mister Salvatore_," Elena addressed him, mocking the formality. "You can't possibly remember me, because the two of us never met," she said simply. "If you had – met me-, if you'd ever known me at all, you would act like this…" she mused.

"Your double-edged words about me sleeping my way to the top, that's not just improper, it's despicable. It's so very wrong, it would have been hilarious if it weren't such a low blow. Preposterous. Yet it wasn't as ludicrous as you insinuating I would've _stolen your daughter away_ to mess with your head. Anyone who's ever met me can attest to the fact that that assumption was just downright deranged. I guess you're right then." She paused for a moment, leaving Damon wide eyed with his mouth slightly ajar.

"You _do not_ know me. _At all_. I got it. That doesn't change the fact that you appear to have some serious issues though. And I'd love to be your friend, and your daughter's, if you'd needed someone to grab a coffee with, that was. Guess not though, huh? Wouldn't want to risk me _trying to sleep with you_, now would we?" she eyed him meaningfully and Damon cringed.

_That had been a low blow indeed_ and as much as he tried, suddenly he couldn't justify his own harsh words any longer, not when there was another side to the story to consider.

Elena stood up from her desk and collected her things, printing out one last piece of paper before shutting down the computer. She walked over to where Damon was sitting, put a signature on the page and handed it over.

"What's this?" Damon inquired, his voice hadn't fully recovered from the shock yet.

"My resignation letter," Elena explained, turning on her heal and walking out the door. "Have a nice life, _Mister Salvatore_," she told him, before calmly shutting the door behind her and walking away.

Damon was left dazzled, bewildered, one women could flip through emotions like they were television channels and he was out of words, awestruck.

**_xXx_**

_I'm the voice inside your head, you refuse to hear  
I'm the face that you have to face, mirroring your stare  
I'm what's left, I'm what's right, I'm the enemy  
I'm the hand that'll take you down, bring you to your knees…_

**xXx**


	5. I wonder if you wonder about me too

_I'm staring at the ceiling  
Wondering how I got so caught  
You're completely off limits  
For more reasons than just one,  
but I can't stop_

**xXx**

Damon watched Elena's retreating back, awestruck. He wanted to say something, anything.  
He felt the need to counter her speech with a smart comeback, yet no words came to mind. She was still witty as ever, he had to give her that at least.

Just a tat unbalanced, Damon started to gather some documents on his desk. Absentmindedly he bundled a few papers into a new folder, before picking up Elena's letter again. He took a moment to admire her neat and cursive handwriting at the bottom.

She resigned. She was done. No more Elena. _So why wasn't he feeling an overwhelming rush of accomplishment seeping into his every pore? Why wasn't he happy, satisfied?_

Damon didn't know how he felt, he simply shrugged the thought away. _No more Elena simply meant one less complication_. It was time to lock her up in the bottom drawer of his nightstand again.

**xXx**

"Sophie?" Damon called out, peeking his head around the corner of Ric's office.

"Daddy!" his little girl beamed up at him, happy to see a smile on her father's face.

"Damon," Ric acknowledged his best friend, "Is Elena still alive?" he inquired next, only half joking.

"Mmm," Damon murmured, putting the folder he'd assembled onto Ric's desk before admiring his daughter's drawing.

"Damon, is she ok?" Ric insisted, half torn between the need to protect the young intern he'd hired on one hand, and his understanding for everything his friend had been through on another.

"She resigned," Damon replied dryly, as if he was commenting on the weather.

"Please tell me she didn't," Ric retorted, a frown appeared, wrinkling his forehead.

"She didn't," Damon deadpanned, equally monotone. "Come on Soph," he urged his little girl, reaching out his hand for her to take.

"Damon?" Ric demanded confused.

"What? You said please," his friend taunted. "First page in the folder," he added, right before closing the door behind him, ignoring the aggravated "Damon!" that followed.

**xXx**

Damon opened the door in the back first, arranging his little girl on the dark blue children's seat and buckling up her seatbelt.

"Daddy, why did Uncle Ric ask if Elena was still alive?" Sophie inquired, as her father sank into the driver's seat.

"It was a joke, Sweetie. Don't worry about it," Damon comforted her.

"That's not a funny joke! Why would he say that?" Sophie insisted.

"Well, not everything Uncle Ric says is funny, princess," Damon retorted evenly, switching his car into a higher gear as he approached the street.

"It's movie night tonight," Sophie mused as the car turned left.

"Mmm, what movie would you like to watch?" Damon inquired absentmindedly.

" It's Mommy's turn to choose…" Sophie initiated yet another conversation about the woman that had left them both.

"It's _your_ turn," Damon retorted. He had checked the picture calendar on the fridge too in the morning, it was his wife's turn to choose dinner and his daughter's turn to pick what they'd be watching.

"I don't want to choose tonight," Sophie informed him, her voice soft.

"That's ok," Damon reassured her. "Why don't we watch Garfield? You like the funny orange cat, don't you?" he inquired.

"Will we eat spaghetti in the sofa then?" Sophie suggested hopefully.

"Of course we can, but don't tell your-, Uncle. Don't tell Ric," Damon caught himself just in time.

"Why not?" Sophie wondered out loud. It was a curious thing for her father to say.

"I don't know. Tell him, don't tell him… It doesn't really matter." The blue-eyed Salvatore turned the radio up a notch, in need of a distraction.

"Will Mommy come and watch with us tonight?" Sophie questioned over the sound of the music.

Two strong hands curled tighter around the steering wheel. "She won't," a cold voice replied chipped.

"But the rule is that if someone else chooses, you have to watch too!" Sophie reminded him.

A humorous chuckle died away in the background. "Like that's the only _rule_ she's broken." Damon's voice was laced with sarcasm.

"What?" the little girl questioned. She couldn't understand his words over the pumped up beats that filled the small space.

"Nothing. We're almost home." Damon informed her, finally spotting their driveway in the distance.

**xXx**

A soft thud resounded through the one bedroom apartment Elena rented, as she allowed her head to bounce against the wall. Once. Twice. A third time.

_What had she done?_

Giving up her job had been an emotional and impulsive decision, not to mention the fact that it had important implications concerning her career. What would prospective new employers think about the fact that she had landed herself a position in one of the most well-respected companies in the field and simply called it quits after forty-eight hours? What would she tell her parents?

And on top of everything else there was Damon. _Her Damon_. Well she couldn't delude herself into thinking part of him was still hers, but they did have a history. Once upon a time, not so long ago, she had worshipped the ground he walked on. She used to look up to him, admire him from afar. Ten years ago Damon had been everything she had ever wished for. He was compassionate, strong, kind, supportive… The last few days had firmly disillusioned her however. She knew better now. Regrettably.

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

"Caroline…"  
"Pssssst Caroline…" a fourteen year old Elena Gilbert whispered.

A little helplessly, the young girl scanned the room for any friends who were still awake. _No luck there_. Bonnie was sprawled across the carpet with her mouth slightly open while Adriana and Emily were lying motionless in their sleeping bags. Exhausted.

It was Caroline's fifteenth birthday party and exuberant gang of pubescent girls had stayed up far too late the night before, partaking in ridiculous games and watching scary movies. Yet now six of them were out cold, savouring what little sleep they had left, only Elena was still awake. She really had to go to the bathroom. _Urgently_.

Now, if they'd been sleeping over at Bonnie's that wouldn't have been an issue at all, Elena knew the cosy house like the back of her hand. The Salvatore mansion was a different story, though. Fifteen bedrooms, four living rooms and two kitchens definitively gave a whole new meaning to the word _spacious_.

Elena bit her lip and squeezed her legs closer together. She turned over again. _Procrastinating_.

"Caroline… Caroline please," she whispered almost desperately.

Two of their friends were asleep in front of the door to Caroline's bathroom, and since Elena didn't want to face their wrath if she woke them up, she'd have no other option but to go downstairs. _No_.

Elena squirmed underneath the covers. She couldn't hold it anymore, she really had to go now. Her lips curled together in an uncomfortable grimace as she gingerly lifted her weight off Caroline's bed. _Come on, you're fourteen now_, she tried to encourage herself, shakily making her way to the door. Hesitantly, she stepped out into the hallway, guiding the door back to its frame and supporting it to muffle the sound of the 'click' when it shut. _Closer. Closer. Closed._

Suddenly Elena was enveloped by utter silence, without as much as the sound of human breathing to sooth her. She wasn't fond of silence, or darkness. And truth be told: she wasn't fond of Caroline's _castle_. At All. Apart from that they weren't allowed to wonder around, especially not at night, but the door to the _toilet_ was blocked, Elena just hoped she wouldn't run in to Mister Salvatore, the senator [CVD1] intimidated her.

Caroline and Elena had been best friends for about three years. During spring break, they had a habit of hosting sleepovers. Practically all of those were held at the Gilbert residence however, since Caroline's parents were always otherwise occupied. Some weeks Caroline had spent more time around Miranda's kitchen table than she did around her own mother's.

With trembling fingers, Elena grabbed hold of the railing, clutching the old wood tightly until the surface warmed underneath her fingers. Step by step she descended the staircase_. Step… By step… By step…_The silence was eerie, it seemed to press her down like a heavy weight.

Whoosh.

_What was that?_ Elena turned around startled, practically stumbling down the next step. She couldn't see anything and her heart was beating in her chest. She was anxious. _What is she's woken Caroline's parents up?_

Reflexively, she stared into the darkness, her eyes on the wall to her left. She could feel the eyes in numerous paintings staring her down even though she couldn't see them. She'd always thought of them as creepy and now-

Whoosh

_What was that?_ By now she really, truly had to pee. _Immediately_. Speeding up her tempo, she tip-toed down in six more seconds. _Two strides down to the hallway, turn left and she'd be there. Two strides down to the hallway, turn left and she'd be there, _she kept chanting in her head.

**xXx**

_In time_. A sigh of relief fell from her lips. She washed her hands slowly, concentrating on the drip drops of water falling into the sink as they broke the peace and quiet. _Finally_. It was a comforting sound, enough to give her the courage to make her way back again.

_A turn to the right, two strides to the staircase. A turn to the right, two strides to the staircase. A turn to the- _Out of the blue something tall and hard blocked her path. She stumbled. _The wall, she'd made her turn too fast. Except- _Two firm hands grabbed hold of her lithe body, steadying her.

_A man.__Burglars!_

Elena panicked, her heart threatened to jump out of her chest and her mouth opened. No sound came out and her eyes went wide, pupils dilated. Every tiny, little hair on her arms and legs rose and her muscles tensed before she jerked her arms back, almost tripping again.

"Shhhhhh… Elena it's me… don't be scared," a familiar voice whispered.

"D-, D-, D-, D, D, D." His name never actually fell from her lips, her knees simply buckled as the adrenaline evaded her system. She had already been on edge and the unexpected encounter...

"Hey!" Damon whispered a little louder, quickly supporting her. He gingerly grabbed hold of her and opened up one of the large walk-through windows behind them. He led her into the garden.

When he turned around, after pulling the window back into the frame without a handle, Elena was sitting on the ground. The moonlight shed a soft glow onto her delicate features and he saw the startled look on her face.

"I am sorry," Damon whispered, sitting down beside her, his eyebrows pulled together in a concerned frown. He felt a little guilty. Elena was one Caroline's most loyal friends and his sister had been complaining so often that no friends ever wanted to stay over.

Elena wasn't as bratty or as confident as his little sister, she was the kind of friend that preferred to stay out of the spotlight. She was modest and shy. Yet whenever his little sister was feeling down, or had done something that got her temporarily out of the good graces of the school's queen bee, Elena would be the one to come over and comfort her. Unconditionally.

"Elena, I'm sorry," Damon whispered again, taking in the confused and shivering fourteen-year-old.

"It's ok…" Elena replied with a tremor in her voice. "I thought you were a burglar, I'm f-, fine now. I'm ok…" she tried to reassure him.

"Yeah. Keep working on that," Damon offered, with a good natured smile in his voice.

"Why were you out on your own in the middle of the night? That doesn't sound like you…" Damon prompted.

"H-, how would you know?" Elena inquired.

"Because my sister keeps telling my parents that none of her friends want to sleep over because our house creeps them out. Her only true friend is you though, ergo…"

"Caroline has a lot of f-, friends!" Elena interjected in defense.

"Not the point," Damon murmured. Elena couldn't see his face properly since he had his back to the moon, but there was no doubt in her mind that Caroline's big brother was rolling his eyes at her.

"I-, I had to go to the bathroom, ok?" Elena rushed out quickly.

Damon couldn't help but chuckle. "Care's room has a bathroom, princess. You know father's not happy when people explore the house." he informed her amused.

"Someone fell asleep in front of the door…" Elena pouted and Damon pressed the back of his fingers to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"Don't mock me!" Elena insisted disdained.

"I'm sorry." Damon broadened his shoulders a little. "I'm sorry, it's just-, It's a little funny. Don't you agree?" he tried gingerly. Elena could feel his eyes warm and open peering into hers.

"It wasn't!" Elena objected. "Your house is like a maze. Too many doors, too many stairs, everything was dark and quiet and then you-. I thought you were a burglar!"

"I noticed," Damon replied swiftly. "For a minute there I was afraid you'd start screaming."

A small smile played across Elena's lips. "I didn't," she realized.

"You didn't." Damon agreed relieved.

"So why were you sneaking around in the middle of the night?" Elena inquired suspiciously, unable to conjure up any reasonable excuse.

"I was out with friends, but Dad doesn't approve, so I snuck out," Damon explained.

"This late?!" Elena exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah." Damon shrugged. "I'm not _fourteen_, you know," Damon reminded her, spitting out the age as if it were something to be ashamed about.

"Almost fifteen!" Elena interjected.

"In two weeks huh, happy birthday in advance," Damon replied, making conversation.

"How would you know?," Elena inquired, her tone suspicious although she secretly liked the fact that he knew.

"Well, how would I know?" Damon questioned rhetorically. "Elena, my sister talks enough about you that I don't even need to ever see you to keep track of your life," he told her matter-of-factly.

Elena grinned. "You keep track of my life."

Damon slid a little to the side, away from her. "I don't. Don't flatter yourself."

Elena blushed furiously, embarrassed. She crossed her arms over her chest, snuggling into the leather jacket for comfort.

"How-, how did you know it was me?" Elena spoke after a long moment. "How did you know you had bumped into me and not someone else?" she wondered out loud.

"I didn't."

"You said: Elena, it's me," Elena retorted childishly.

Damon stood up and reached out his hand for her to take, to pull her up. "You have a very vivid imagination," Damon retorted.

Elena's hand tensed in his and bit by bit it dawned on him that he'd hurt her by lying. "I meant your fear of the house, it's not that bad here…" he tried to soften his previous comment. "You girls shouldn't be watching such scary movies, I don't want you frightened in the middle of the night," he tried to distract her.

"Night Damon," she whispered evenly, before feeling her way to the staircase again, her cheeks still flaming red.

"… because you smell nice…" Damon whispered after she was long gone.

**xXx**

Present

Damon was not the guy she should be looking up to, Elena had realized that one night all those years ago, just like she was telling herself the exact same thing eleven years later, as she stared out of her bedroom window.

Much like old times, however, Elena couldn't seem to shake him, shake the idea of him, not then and not now. And yet again: he was out of reach.

She had to be brave, she had to show him that she wasn't a toy for him to play with or a button for him to push. But why did that have to hurt so much. Why did it always have to ache and burn every time she had to let him go?

Eh-eh-o eh-o, Eh-eh-o eh-o, Eh-eh-o eh-o, Eh-, Elena picked up her phone rather quickly, effectively putting an end to Bastille's Pompei.

The number on the display was one of the company. Unbidden, Elena's heart picked up its pace. "Good evening," she spoke formally.

_Let it be Damon, please let it be Damon.  
Maybe he wants to apologize.  
Perhaps-_

"Good evening, Elena. Ric- Saltzman here…"

Elena's heart sank in her chest and she scolded her crazy mind. Of course it wouldn't be Damon. What was she thinking?! She had to let it go. She was better than that. Stronger. She didn't need Damon and she wasn't going to let him occupy her mind. No more. She had to-

"… firm," Alaric finished his sentence.

_Damn. She'd just missed every single word he'd said. Damn. Damn. Damn_. Elena bumped her head against the wall behind her before she thought better of it.

"Elena?" Ric questioned, slightly alarmed by the sound.

_Aaaaaggggggrrrrrr. Could it get any worse?_

"Yes," Elena replied hesitantly, her voice small.

"I believe we need to have a conversation about you and Damon," Ric informed her determined, his tone open and kind.

**xXx**

Over at the Salvatore house, Sophie was sitting closely to her Dad. Both of them were thoroughly enjoying the movie from underneath their blanket. Their plates were empty by now and sitting on the side table, waiting to be collected. Damon would clean them up when Sophie would fall asleep.

"It's funny," his little girl commented.

"Yes it is," Damon agreed, happy to see her smiling.

Yet right before Garfield stepped into the cab, the doorbell resounded loudly through the house.

_Mommy_, Sophie thought instantly.

_Elena_, Damon couldn't help but hope, right on cue.

Two pairs of eyes met, as father and daughter rose from their seat in sync, wondering if they were right. _Both refusing to give up their hopes and dreams, fighting reality._

_Were they  
right?_

**xXx**

_So I'll remain within your aim  
until my thoughts can travel somewhere new  
My mind is blind to everything but you  
And I wonder if you wonder about me too_

**xXx**


	6. All I Want

**xXx**

Sunshine.  
It warms our hearts, it lights up our lives.  
It makes us smile and it makes us glow.  
Still we know.  
We know that at some point the sun will set.  
Darkness is inevitable.  
And darkness will come.

If we'd be rational beings though, we would not be afraid of the dark. We'd remind ourselves that if we just wait long enough, the sun will come to shine again. Tomorrow. We won't succumb to it, not completely anyhow.

Rationally, we know that there's an end to every suffering. One way or another. We know that at some point that hole in our hearts will be covered by scar tissue. The question remains: when. When will we fall asleep and sleep long enough to stop counting? Long enough to forget how time goes by? When will we finally wake up and realize that the dark night is over once again?

Should we attempt to distract ourselves? Should we attempt to forget about that gaping wound for a second or two? Fine. Let's try. Let's all try not to think of lonely, white polar bears.  
You just did? Didn't you?

Distractions. **Denial**. They won't save us and they won't work. Still we'll try. We'll never quit trying. Because let's be honest, if the repeated chanting of the words 'This is not happening,' could actually save us from the storm just once, we'd be fools for not trying it out.

**xXx**

"I believe we need to have a talk about you and Damon," Ric informed Elena determined, his voice open and kind. "This is not to punish you, or to meddle in your personal life, but I do believe a conversation is due," he elaborated.

"Ok," Elena stammered into her smartphone. It was only now that she became aware of the fact that the palms of her hands were starting to feel moist. She flattened them one by one against her jeans. Calm. _You can do this_, she convinced herself.

"I understand that you decided to leave the company?" Ric spoke, letting the words linger as he awaited an explanation.

"I did, Mister Saltzman" Elena replied chipped.

"May I ask you why?" Ric insisted.

"I'm afraid I'm not a good fit," Elena weighed her words.

"And you've deducted that before you're even halfway your trial period? Are you aware that the company won't pay you if you don't complete the first two months?" Ric inquired.

"I am. I'm genuinely sorry Mister Saltzman. I'm simply afraid this line of work isn't my cup of tea." Elena informed him politely.

"Is it the line of work or your ex-boyfriend that troubles you?" Ric ran his mouth.

"Ex-, excuse me?" Elena muttered baffled.

"I'm sorry to be blunt, Elena, but we could chit-chat here for hours, accomplishing nothing but an unnecessary rise in my telephone bill. I know Damon and I know the two of you share a history. Did he do something, or say something to make you quit? Feel free to be honest with me, he won't get in trouble, I merely need to know," Ric assured her.

Elena had no reply. Denial wouldn't be of any use, it would simply place them in a very predictable discussion of Elena dancing around the facts and Alaric refusing give up before he gets the truth. There had to be another way out.

"It's my fault," Elena finally admitted, "Years ago, I made a decision to protect Damon and it backfired. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, I'm still not entirely convinced that there had been any other way. But if you eye that situation from Damon's perspective, he's probably right to despise me. I should not have applied for the job, knowing he worked for your company. I'm sorry for that."

"What did you do?" Ric questioned, his curiosity spiked at the revelation.

"You should ask Damon, it's truly not my story to tell." Elena's fingers fumbled nervously with the fringe of her top.

"Please," Ric insisted, knowing he had even less of a chance at the truth if he'd had to squeeze it out of Damon.

"I'm sorry," Elena murmured.

"Fine." It was Friday night, Ric wasn't in the mood for a long discussion ending in disappointment. "But answer me this: if Damon would be alright with you working for the company, and I could relocate you for the time being, would you consider coming back to work for us?" Ric questioned.

It sounded almost too good to be true, but Elena managed a collected: "I think so."

"Then please come by my office on Monday morning, I'll work something out," Ric spoke decisively.

"Wh-, euhm, thank you Mister Saltzman, that would-, _save me a lot of time and money looking for a new job_-, be great," Elena stammered, releasing the fabric between her fingers reflexively.

"Ric," he corrected, "And my pleasure, enjoy your weekend!"

"You too," Elena managed before hanging up, relieved. She allowed herself to fall backwards against the covers. Just once.

_It was going to be alright. Damon was not going to be an issue.  
_**Denial**. The first stage of grief according to to Elisabeth Kubler Ross.  
Let's not forget though, that denial is merely the tip of the iceberg, for we can't fix the problems we fail to recognize.

**xXx**

Over at the Salvatore house, two pairs of eyes met, as father and daughter rose from their seat in sync, wondering if they were right. _Both refusing to give up their hopes and dreams, fighting reality._

_Were they right?_

"Ric," the name left Damon's lips in a deep sigh, as disappointment and relief collided into one inside of his mind. The figure standing on his front porch tilted his head in confusion, this wasn't even close to the welcome he usually got. Both Damon and Sophie's face was void of any enthusiasm whatsoever.

_Ric... Not Katherine, not Elena. _Damon processed. _Again: not Katherine… h_e highlighted in his head_. _A heavy weight seemed to fall off his chest, only to come crashing down again at the realization that Elena wouldn't ever be the one standing there. _Ric._

Ric stared confused at the befuddled expressions of the two people standing in the doorway. "Well… Can I come in?" he inquired politely.

Damon stepped out of the way, steering his little girl's shoulder to the side too. Sophie simply kept staring for one more moment, checking the driveway for a second car, there was none. She hung her head, not sure what to say or how to respond. _Ric._

Ric entered the house without much further ado, unzipping his coat.

"What are you doing here?" Damon wondered out loud. His friend didn't have a habit of stopping by unannounced.

Sophie eyed the glass storing jar filled with corn, that rested in her uncle's hand. "You brought popcorn!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, her temporary distress already long gone.

"Well I thought we were doing movie night," Ric explained, "And we all know how your Daddy loves to make things explode," he added a little softer, flashing his eyes at his best friend, who didn't miss the double-edged undercurrent.

The drawer below the electrical fire slid open and Damon took out a frying pan, "Sure thing," he muttered, drizzling down some oil.

Ric leaned back against the counter and opened the cupboard to look for a drink.

"Oh no, buddy, if I can't drown my sorrows before bedtime, then neither can you!" Damon admonished with a smirk, closing the cupboard again. "Raising kids on Friday nights suddenly isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?" He snickered.

"What are sorrows?" Sophie inquired. "And why would you drown them?"

The two men stared at the little girl. "Euhm, sorrow is like-, like sadness," Ric supplied, eying Damon. "And when _you_ are sad, we make you warm chocolate milk, to make the sadness go away. And somehow people call that 'drowning the sadness'," Damon finished, proud of his reasonable coherent explanation.

"Why are you sad then, Uncle Ric?" Sophie asked next, as she put two and two together.

Suddenly Ric's eyes started to twinkle, and he took his time shifting his body to face the little girl. "That is a very good question," he drew, the phrase heavily loaded with words unspoken.

Ric comfortably intertwined his fingers and placed his hands above his right knee. "You've met Elena, haven't you Sophie?"

The little girl nodded and Damon tensed and his best friend's eyes briefly met his with a determined stare.

"Well, Elena's a very nice and smart girl, isn't she?" Ric asked Sophie. The child confirmed again, to great agitation of her father.

"Our company met with at least twenty different people, before we found someone who'd be good enough to help your father."

Pop. Pop. The kernels had reached the right temperature and began to transform.

"And now she suddenly decided to leave," Ric finished his story.

"Just like that?" Sophie wondered.

"Just like that," Ric confirmed.

Pop. Pop. The popping appeared to be in sync with the short circuit in Damon's head.

"Alright stop!" Damon ordered, eying Ric angrily. "No work talk with Soph around," he stated as a rule.

"My niece wanted to know why I was sad, I merely answered her question," Ric provoked.

"You know well enough-"

"-that one can go too far, simply by making the right remarks or assumptions at the right time? Is that why I'm one employee short right now, Damon?" Ric rapidly turned the tables on his best friend.

"I can only be held responsible for what I said, not for how she interpreted it," Damon defended himself.

Ric huffed. "I'm sure both were equally lovely and admirable. And _welcoming_. I'm sure you've been _very welcoming_," Ric retorted, his voice low.

"I. Have. My. Reasons." Damon spoke menacingly.

"Yeah. I'm sure you do, _buddy_, but that excuse is starting to sound like a broken record. My patience is wearing thin. I'm your best friend and it's been ten years, not a single scenario in my very vivid imagination can justify your recent frantic behaviour," Ric lectured.

Damon poured the popcorn into a bowl and handed it to Sophie. "Here, Sweetheart, go settle in underneath the blanket and press play, we'll be there in a second," Damon dismissed his confused daughter.

When Sophie walked out, he quickly gathered two glasses and swiped the counter clean of oil spatters. "It wasn't all that spectacular," he admitted, avoiding Ric's gaze.

"We dated, we had a thing, then some idiot took some pictures to hurt my father's campaign-, let's just say that our little Miss Gilbert didn't handle that situation the way I'd hoped she would have." Damon shrugged, as if the mere motion could relieve him from his uneasiness and tension.

"Please don't tell me she put 'little Damon' on Tumblr with a demeaning nickname below or something," Ric demanded in mock seriousness. A sharp elbow landed in his ribcage right on cue.

"What? You said picture…" Ric interjected, rubbing the sore spot.

"That was in the pre-Facebook era, you Dumbass. Tumblr didn't even exist back then. Besides, she never even got to see li-, Big Damon," he added.

"She didn't?" Ric nearly choked on his drink, "All this drama over a girl you have never even _slept with_?" He blinked in confusion.

"Yeah, how sensitive, twenty-first century of me, huh?" Damon snapped.

"I never meant-"

"- to be a dick?" Damon finished, quirking his eyebrow in question. "Well you failed. And you'll fail again. It's in your nature," he muttered dryly.

"Come on, Damon, what happened between you two?" Ric insisted one final time. "What could be so bad, that even after ten years, you're still this angry with a young girl who was barely a teenager at the time?"

"I was in love with her. Ok?" Damon rushed out irritated.

"What?!" Ric's eyes went wide and his mouth was contorted as it was still deciding if it would hang open in awe or produce uncomfortable laughter. "In love, as in: love love, the fluttering-"

Damon kicked his friend in the shins "Shut up already," he murmured, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he shifted. His eyes were staring at various random points on the ceiling before Ric drew him back in. "No, I'm sorry, go on," he urged, attempting to sound inviting.

"Nothing more to say," Damon replied chipped, his muscles stiff as he awkwardly collected their glasses and made motion to flee the scene.

"Didn't she-"

Damon huffed, "Of course she returned my feelings, they never stand a chance against my charm," Damon offered matter-of-factly, his shoulders a bit straighter again.

"But she was young and naïve and at the first sign of trouble-, Well she gave up. And she did it in a-, let's just say that she did it in a questionable way.  
One day she was mine, and the next she was someone else's.  
She just-, she traded me. She traded me like I was a book or something. Or-, well-," Damon's finger tapped nervously on the side of the glass before he continued.

"No. She wouldn't have traded her books, but me-. I guess I was just never that important to her and that's fine. But-. You know what: just forget it. It's in the past now anyhow. We were young" Damon opened the door with his elbow, forcing a smile upon his face for Sophie.

Ric soundlessly settled into the sofa beside them, before shifting Sophie onto his lap.

"How about we make this a special night?" Ric suggested, eying Sophie. "Perhaps you and I could watch a movie just the two of us, it's been a while since I had you all to myself."

"Where would Daddy go?" Sophie inquired.

"Yeah, where would Daddy go?" Damon repeated his daughter's question, quirking an eyebrow at his best friend.

"I think it would do Daddy good to talk to an old friend again," Ric replied, holding her close.

"You think?" Damon's eyes widened in horror and disbelief.

"I think you two haven't talked yet, but I do believe that deep down you're both willing," Ric insisted.

"We already-"

"Calling her names and ordering her around is not talking, Damon, nor is it productive. Go to a pub, or have dinner, meet anywhere but between four blank walls. Just give it one shot, one single hour to take in her version of events. And if you do so and decide that she's not worth your time, I'll ensure that you won't have to see her again. I won't bring her up ever again," Ric spoke tentatively.

Damon shifted his leg over his knee, broadening his shoulders. "That's emotional blackmail," he noted.

"No, that's friendship, buddy," Ric corrected, staring straight into icy blue eyes.

**xXx**

A huff escaped Damon's lips as he reluctantly shifted his Camero into a higher gear. His nonchalance spoke volumes: Mister Salvatore was both nervous and annoyed, but above all: angry.

Two stiff fingers turned up the speakers and Damon gathered that he'd need an extra drive around town before diving head first into the next meeting. What the hell was Ric thinking? And where did he get the audacity to voice those thoughts out loud.

Damon hadn't ever commented of his Buddy's lousy taste in women.  
Damon hadn't mocked his best friend when Ric's ex -green with envy- had crashed his most recent date. Or he had. Perhaps a little, but that was beside the point.

The point was Elena. The Elena-issue had truly been a boomerang over the previous few years. Every single time Damon thought he'd managed to maximize the distance between them, the subject of his sleepless nights came flying back at high speed. Too fast to catch and never failing to hit it's mark. And that mark was Damon. _She never missed_.

A few years back Damon used to wonder if she did it on purpose: the pictures of her with a handsome CEO on page six the day before he was about to propose, her car in his street when he was home for his father's re-election campaign… After a while it had ceased to matter to him. The fact was, that he was hurting, and every time that wound got a chance to heal, she was there to rip of the bandage. Her intentions were not important_, he wouldn't be in pain if not for her_. Lately, that was all that counted.

It's not fair to blame a fifteen year old for a case of unrequited love, some may say. _Fine. Point taken. _But Elena had shown him something, made him feel something. She had radiated a magical glow, a glow of warmth. Belonging. Support. Care. In just a few months she had managed to open his eyes and show him a whole wide world beyond the cold and collected environment he'd grown up in. It had been everything. And now it was gone. Forever lost.

And fair or not. Damon still blamed her for it. Blamed her for showing him what he'd been missing, showing him what he'd miss from that moment on. One does not miss a long, warm hug if one hasn't ever experienced what that feels like. One can't crave five limber fingers, tenderly threading through one's hair if it's a foreign and unknown sensation.

But Elena taught him a million of those little things, thought him to love them, thought him to crave them and now he felt deprived. Ten years of consistent depravation. _And he blamed her, because there was no one else and he was more convinced than ever that there'd never be anyone else either._

**Anger**. It's the stage of grief that drives your friends away. Still, it's only a natural part of the process, once we're past denial and we recognize that we have faced a loss, we need a culprit, someone to blame. Who's to blame?  
Life? Faith? God?

God, that would make for an entertaining thought experiment, because if he's truly in control of anything and everything: every shimmer of hope and joy, every blow, every tear, every death, then thank God he's never signed the UN Charter. Christ. I'm sure they'd turn that into one hell of a spectacle in The Hague.

**xXx**

A little first curled around Ric's shirt as his favourite niece unconsciously secured her hold on the fabric during the finale of the movie. Her head was lifted from his chest now, her eyes glued to the screen.

When the credits appeared thirteen minutes later, she settled down again, snuggling closer once again.

"Uncle Ric?" she disrupted the quiet.

"Hmm," he murmured, his chin resting comfortably on top of her crown.

"Is Daddy visiting Mommy?" she inquired softly.

"No, sweetheart, he's not," Ric replied honestly, "I'm sorry if we confused you, your Dad hasn't spoken to your Mom for quite some time now," Ric added to clarify.

"He's soooo angry with her," Sophie sighed ruefully, drawing out the word. "And he used to be her best friend," she added on a more rueful note.

"Aren't you angry with your Mom then?" Ric wondered out loud.

The little girl seemed to ponder that for a moment. "I was… a little. When she forgot to pick me up I was angry, but I'm not anymore, now I just want her back," Sophie mused.

Ric tilted his head and ran his hand soothingly up and down her back in long languid strokes, "I know, sweetheart," he uttered softly.

"I'll be better, you know," Sophie vowed, "I told her that, in the car. I told her that I'd eat my cereal and put on the right shoes. I told her that I'd hurry up in the morning, and that I'd be a good girl when it's bedtime. I-, I told her. Maybe-, maybe she forgot, m-"

**Bargaining**. If anger fails, the third stage of grief is bargaining. For a little while, you're inclined to give everything else up, put all your wants, needs, hopes, dreams and traditions on the line for the lingering hope that it'll change anything. It's the '_I'll never do it again'_ in a desperate attempt to avoid being grounded, it's the '_We'll still be friends, right_?' near the end of a painful break-up. It's the last straw, it's the _all-in_, it's the third stage of grief before we move onto depression.

Tiger made a leap and jumped right in the little girl's lap, seemingly sensing her distress. Sophie's fingers disappeared between little, soft, ginger hairs as she lost her train of thought.

"It's not you," Ric spoke, eyes blindly staring, half absentmindedly, at the purring cat.

"Is it Daddy's fault then?" Sophie wondered.

"No. It's no one's fault," Ric supplied, "Not even your mother's I think," he added the forbidden words he'd never voice in Damon's presence.

"That can't be. It's always someone's fault…" Sophie contradicted.

"No… sometimes it's just something or somewhere, or sometime. Life can take us to unexpected places, you know?" Ric mused.

Sophie wrinkled her forehead. "No," she stated simply. "Or Mommy is mad at me, or Mommy is mad at Daddy, or Mommy can come back," Sophie stated the only options that made sense to her.

"What if Mommy's mad at herself?" Ric suggested.

"You can't be mad at yourself," Sophie dismissed the option. "You cannot hurt yourself, or say mean things to yourself and then hurt yourself, that's dumb and Mommy isn't dumb," Sophie explained.

Ric let his head fall back against the sofa before turning Sophie around in his lap so she was facing him. _How could he make her understand?_

"Ok," he started. "Let's start here: you are a big girl, right?" Ric asked.

Sophie nodded.

"You are a big girl when you take care of Tiger, and you're a big girl when you eat your peas, you're a big girl when you clean your room and you're a big girl when you help Daddy. You understand that, don't you?"

"Jep," Sophie affirmed with a popping p.

"But sometimes, you can be a little girl too…" he continued. "That's perfect and it's normal, we all get to be small from time to time and have other people take care of us. Sometimes you need a grown-up to help you, then we catch the spider in the corner of your room, of check for monsters under the bed, we wash your hair, we patch you up when you scrape your knee. You cannot always be a big girl and no one would want you to either," Ric explained. Sophie was listening with interest.

"Now Moms and Dads, they're not always so big either. Sometimes grown-ups are sad too, or scared, or hurt. And I think your Mom had enough of being big for a while. I think she just stopped knowing what to do at some point. And when she realized that something was wrong, that she couldn't take care of you and your Dad like she used to, she just left," Ric suggested.

"But why?" Sophie insisted.

"Because Moms have to take care of their kids, and not the other way around. If your Mom had been here, and if she had been crying all day, you would not have known what to do... You would have given her a really big hug, or given her your teddy bear, but it would not have worked and she would have continued crying.

That is not what your home should be like. Moms should not cry day after day and your parents should not have yelled at each other like they did. As a kid, you are supposed to crawl onto their lap and be safe, but your Mom couldn't handle that anymore. You were always worried about her and you were always sad. It was not your fault and it was not her fault, but it wasn't right either. It wasn't fair. Your Mom needed to try something different, she needed to try and find a way to be a big girl again and I hope that she will come back when she figures it out," Ric tried to explain.

"I want to help," Sophie insisted.

"I know, sweetheart, but you cannot always help. Look at Tiger. Tiger sees that you are sad and he wants to make you feel better, but just because he wants that, does not mean he can. He's sweet and he's perfect, but he cannot understand why you are sad, just like you can't understand why your Mom is sad. And you shouldn't. You do not have to understand everything. You are five. In time you will learn and when you are eighteen and you want to help, you can, but not yet, and not right now." Ric met her eyes, trying to convey the message as accurately as possible.

"It's… hard," Sophie concluded, still not getting the gist of what Ric was trying to explain.

"It is," Ric confirmed. "But that does not mean that all is lost, sweetheart. You can think of your Mom whenever you want, and you can draw her pictures, or leave a message on her voicemail. You should never forget that your Mom loves you, just like your Dad loves you. But you cannot be together for now, just like Tiger and his Mom are not together right now. It doesn't always have to be bad, you know… Tiger is happy living with you, and you have a lot of people you _can_ see and you _can_ talk to."

"But my Daddy can't comb my hair," Sophie mused.

"What else?" Ric asked softly.

"My Daddy doesn't know girly stuff… All the other kids in my class do girly stuff with their Moms and-"

"What if we ask Aunt Caroline? Would that be ok for now?" Ric suggested.

"I miss my Mom," Sophie simply replied, shaking her head.

A warm arm enveloped her and Ric held her for a while. He closed his eyes briefly in frustration at the woman Damon had taken to bed six years earlier. Katherine had never been a good role model and he hated what her negligence was doing to his niece. A part of him still refused to let go of the hope that there was good inside the heart of the manipulative, irresponsible women, though he couldn't shake the silent fear that Damon was right: perhaps the egotistical side of Miss Pierce did win out.

Where was Katherine anyhow? Did she have any friends where she could move in? Miss Pierce had been raised by a doting single mother, yet appeared to have succeeded in forgetting every single good thing the woman had surely taught her. So much for nature versus nurture, Ric huffed, wondering if Katherine was truly all alone in the world now.

**xXx**

Friends. The word had randomly popped into Elena's mind. Friends.  
With all that had been happening at work, this was surely the time to vent.

Determinedly, Elena grabbed her phone, swiping fingerprints from the muted screen with her sleeve, she liked her things clean and neat. Not that it was any use of course, there was no keeping your touch screen neat. That was the whole point of a touch screen: to _touch_ the damn thing. It was practical, sure, but a nightmare to anyone with slight OCD tendencies.

The A of Adrian, Andrew, Anthony, Amanda… None of those names represented longstanding, durable friendships. She knew them, sure, but they weren't the kind of friends she needed right now.

The B of Bay, Bonnie, Brandon, Briana, Brittany… Bonnie would be her first choice, but unfortunately her friend was studying abroad these days and the time difference wasn't working in their favour.

And then there was the C of Caroline. Caroline who'd been there when her parents fought. Caroline who'd giggled with her when she had her first period, and had her first crush not long after. Caroline who was beautiful, intelligent, kind and popular and used to love her like a sister. She missed those times, how could that have possibly all gone to waste?

**Ten years earlier**

"Oh, come on Elena, one more mile!" Caroline insisted, jogging backwards in front of Elena.

"I-," Elena panted heavily, "I'm… n-, not sure I-" she barely managed.

"Nonsense!" the bubbly blonde dismissed all and any complaints. "We made a pact, remember? We were going to eat healthy and stay fit this summer. Now we're already eating healthier, this is part two of our plan!" she reminded her friend exuberantly.

The two of them were running wide circles around the huge Salvatore state. Caroline's father didn't approve of the two young girls showing off their bodies in the local park. Luckily the paths around the large pond, the exquisite garden and the golf course made up for a great environment to sport, without lurking eyes.

"One, two. One, two. Don't slow down now, just four more minutes," Caroline announced.

The sun was burning, torturing Elena, yet in her enthusiasm, Caroline failed to notice how her best friend's face slowly drained of its colour.

"Care, I-, I-, I- can't-," Elena started.

"Yes you can and you will. We do not quit, do you hear me, we do not quit!" Caroline urged, they were only thirty yards from the house.

Suddenly the consistent rhythm of feet behind her faltered, ending in one final thud.

"YOU WERE ALMOST THERE!" Caroline exclaimed irritated, eying her friend who'd hit the ground.

"Alright, I'll help you up," she surrendered eventually when Elena didn't respond.

"Elena…" she called. "Elena?" Elena didn't even move, she just lay there face down.

"Elena, this isn't funny! Elena, are you-  
Oh my God.  
OH MY GOD! HELP, SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!" Caroline shouted at the top of her lungs, overwhelmed by panic.

When no reaction followed she sprinted towards the house as fast as her legs could carry her. "DAMOOOOOOOOOOOON! Damon please. Elena's hurt, she's not moving, she-" Caroline shouted hoarsely in between pants. Her brother raced down the stairs a second later.

"Where?" he demanded. "Caroline. WHERE?"

"On the lawn-, close-, you'll see, please help, you-,"

"Call Robert. Stay calm. I'll stay with her," Damon ordered.

Robert was their neighbour, he was a heart surgeon who'd bought the property on the left side of their estate two years ago. Robert was the only one with a medical degree, in between the judges, politicians and businessmen that made up their neighbourhood.

**xXx**

As Caroline called for help, it didn't take long for Damon to assess the situation. Elena was breathing regularly, so he expertly turned her onto her side and blocked her face from the sun with his body, waiting for her to open her eyes again. He didn't want to move her before checking if she wasn't hurt.

He didn't have to wait long though, a few seconds later her eyes fluttered open. Looking disoriented, she took in her surroundings. "Welcome back," Damon whispered.

"Back?" Elena murmured confused, reaching out her hand to touch her head.

"You fainted," he explained.

"I-, I just-" Elena stammered, she felt as if she'd just woken up from the strangest dream.

"It's alright," Damon soothed her, "Does it hurt anywhere? I'm afraid you might have hit your head when you fell."

"No, I think I'm fine," Elena informed him, feeling slightly embarrassed. She placed her hand firmly on the ground and tried to lift herself to no avail. She instantly felt lightheaded and slumped into Damon's waiting arms. He chuckled. He'd known she'd try and fail.

"Let's get you inside, it's far too hot to be out at noon running these days," he suggested.

"I'm not sure I can-,"

"Oh, I know you can't," Damon snickered, carefully lifting her up bridal style. "You're lucky you're a lightweight," he joked, cradling her a little closer against his chest as he carried her inside.

Tentatively, he placed her on the leather sofa, lifting her feet with the cushions that had been neatly arranged. He rapidly collected a moist towel from the kitchen and tucked away a loose strand of hair before covering Elena's forehead. "Are you ok?" he checked, deep blue eyes boring into hers.

All Elena could do was nod, who was this guy and what had he done to Caroline's reckless brother?

**xXx**

_all I want is _  
_and all I need is_  
_to find somebody_  
_I'll find somebody like you_

**_xXx_**


	7. Color me in

**xXx**

**Denial**.

_I tried to repress it, then I carried its crown  
I reached out to undress it and love let me down._

**Anger**.

So I tried to erase it but the ink bled right through.  
Almost drove myself crazy when these words led to you.

**Bargaining**.

And all these useless dreams of living alone  
Like a dog-less bone…

**xXx**

Elena's phone vibrated somewhere on her mattress. Semi-distracted, she patted the fluffy surface for her slick device. _New message: Ric Saltzman_. A swipe from her finger revealed the incoming text: "_I gave Damon your address, I hope that's ok. I'll be staying with Sophie, take as much time as you need_. – Ric Saltzman."

Elena couldn't help re-reading the message. Puzzled.  
Why?

For months she'd been trying to find her place in the new environment she'd found herself in. She'd tried to forge a connection with her downstairs neighbour, some colleagues, and the local bartender down the street. But her efforts had been merely that: efforts. In vain. _And now her boss of all people, was the one to reach out his hand?_

**xXx**

In the last few months, Elena had never been able to shake the feeling that the new 'friendships' she'd created did not run deeply enough. Sure she had people she could borrow sugar from if she were to ever run out, but on nights like the one she was experiencing, she couldn't help feeling lonely. In the end all the people she'd met, lived on their own little islands. _So who cared if the power on hers ran out?_

In all honesty, her life in the big city reminded her of high school in that aspect: a world where three rows of X's and a dozen hearts at the end of each and every message were supposed to prove that the 'friendship was still intact'. _Best Friends Forever_. A weapon in the era of raging insecurities. A promise, but in hindsight perhaps rather a hope, the silent wish that ties do bind, that when darkness falls upon us, when we need it, those '_best friends'_ will, indeed, rise to the occasion and put those precious words into action. Perhaps?

It appears to be imperative to have 'friends', even 'Facebook friends' or 'followers' on Twitter. Furthermore: we need not stop the lovely exchange of pleasantries either. Various studies have shown that we crave these 'social interactions', even the superficial ones.

Crucial question in that regard: when your island runs out of power, when you need help, but are a tad too occupied or worn down to express proper gratitude, will anyone have the time to build a bridge and carry a candle up to your shore or will watching you self-destruct be a greater source of entertainment. Reality TV, no? _Oh isn't it lovely how some people appear to be even worse off than you are?_

Despicable_._

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

"Take a gulp," Adriana insisted, handing Caroline the bottle of liquor the girls had stolen from Senator Salvatore's study.

"But I already did!" complained Caroline, "And technically you can't make me, unless it's my next dare," she decided, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Fine. Be a baby. It was Emily's turn anyway," conceded Adriana disgruntled. The spoiled brat and self-appointed queen B, eyed her nails with exceptional interest.

"Truth or dare?" Caroline quickly asked Emily, shooting a nervous glance at Elena, who's fidgeting fingers proved that she, too, had picked up on the renewed tension.

"Truth," whispered Emily in a soft voice, eying the bottle she wished to avoid.

Adriana huffed.

"In your opinion," started Caroline, "who's the prettiest girl in our class? I mean, if you were a boy, who would you pick?" Caroline wondered out loud.

It had been merely a diplomatic question. The obvious answer was sitting right across from her. _Cute blond curls, sparkling blue eyes with long lashes, a radiant smile, legs that appeared to go on forever…_ It was high time to stroke Queen Adriana's ego a little, because that line between '_best friends forever_' and '_persona non grata'_ was not as impervious as one would hope.

"Elena," Emily spoke. Elena's head instantly turned toward Emily in surprise and she shyly accepted the warm smile Adriana's best friend wilfully sent her way.

Elena's eyes lit up for one brief moment before the spotlight brutally refocused. "How cute," Adriana drew, barely able to keep the menacing undercurrent at bay, "I imagine Elena's up next then? I surely hope so, since I have a wonderful dare in mind," she flashed her eyes meaningfully and Elena shifted uncomfortable in her seat.

Their game had rules. Technically, Elena had a choice: she could either take the dare, or she could simply go for truth instead. _Freedom of choice_. No one appeared to remember that, however, as Adriana decided to step up the game.

"Damon." Blue eyes started glistening dangerously and the way the young girl was meticulously flexing her nimble fingers spoke volumes. _Revenge_. As Elena's and Caroline's eyes met, the bottle of liquor was suddenly no longer the worst option.

"How do you feel about Damon?" Adriana drew sickeningly sweetly, crossing two barely clad legs and adjusting her skirt with elegance and precision.

"Is that a truth-question?" Caroline dared to inquire, although her voice lacked its usual bravado.

"No, Caroline. It's simply me asking my friend about something I've been curious about," Adriana informed the fellow blonde coldly.

Ever since Adriana had first laid eyes on Damon, she'd been mesmerized by his charm. Her schoolgirl crush had amounted to nothing but sheer disappointment however, as Damon had always remained indifferent in regard to her affections.

The year before, the slightly annoyed Salvatore had even jokingly informed the schoolyard 'that he'd sooner die, than date a girl that looked like a carbon copy of his little sister', upon being asked if he was planning to take Adriana to the school dance. Needless to say, that Queen Adriana, who was convinced no girl in her court could compare, had been displeased.

And to state that Damon's unmistakable interest in Elena irritated her, would be the understatement of a lifetime. Ever since Elena's fainting spell, she'd gotten a lot closer to Caroline's big brother, even helping him cook whenever Caroline took longer to study. Caroline herself, didn't see the harm in that, she thought it was nice to see her brother in 'decent companionship' as she liked to call it, Adriana, however, did not share that opinion.

"So?" Adriana insisted.

"I-, I think Damon's kind," Elena stammered, eyes wide.

"Go on," Adriana pressed.

"He's-, well, I don't know. He's a good guy, isn't he?" Elena redirected the line of questioning.

"Hmm. Do you think he's hot?" Adriana wondered, eyebrows half an inch too high.

"Hey, that's enough. He's my brother!" Caroline interjected.

"Fine. The dare then. Elena, I dare you to go up to his room and kiss him," Adriana challenged out of the blue.

The three girls stared awestruck toward the vicious blond.

"What?" Adriana demanded. "The game's called truth or dare. We agreed no dares are off limits and I believe I just voiced mine," Adriana spelled out.

"Come on, you can't-"

"-help Elena?" Adriana finished Caroline's sentence. "Sure I can. Let's not be hypocrites, we all know Elena's been crushing on your brother for months now. The poor guy can't move a finger without two dull doe eyes glued to his back, no offence Elena," Adriana interjected, eying her '_friend'_.

"Seeing her stretch her neck to catch a glimpse of him has me kind of bored though, nothing ever happens. So here I present her with the opportunity of a lifetime: kiss Damon, this is the perfect excuse and the _only_ one she'll be getting," the blonde pressed.

No one spoke amongst the three other girls. Emily excused herself for a quick bathroom break, Caroline fruitlessly searched for Elena's eyes and Elena herself fought hard to maintain her composure.

The old grandfather clock downstairs struck 11 PM and after a soft knock, in walked Damon, right on cue.

"Hey, euhm, Care?" he demanded his sister's attention, "Dad just texted, they're on their way home, might wanna put back the booze before our old man blames _me_ for taking it," he informed her, flashing his eyes. After a polite nod in Elena's general direction he turned on his heel.

"Wait!" Adriana called. Damon eyed her suspiciously.

"You're right on time actually, we just dared Elena to kiss you. Any _objections_?" the annoying teenager challenged. Damon stepped back as if struck by lightning. He shook his head with a confused expression, "I'm not a part of your silly little games Adi," Damon spoke curtly, before fleeing the scene rather quickly.

"Well, at least you know how he feels about you now," Adriana explained Elena. "But no need to thank me. That's what friends are for, right?" she concluded with a smirk that radiated satisfaction. Friend. _Best friends forever_.

**xXx**

Present day

The bed creaked slightly as Elena readjusted herself atop the fluffy pillows. Absentmindedly she shifted her phone from one hand to another.

"_I gave Damon your address, I hope that's ok. I'll be staying with Sophie, take as much time as you need_. Ric Saltzman," she read again. It was a simple text, just a few lines. But it wasn't even about the words themselves, it was about what they implied. Because regardless of their length or even precise content: those kind of messages always came down to one same crucial concept:

_Hey. I'm taking a minute of my time to let you know I care.  
Hey. I'm taking a minute of my time to let you know I'm here_.

On the receiving end of a message like that, it's difficult to know what to reply. What should one reply? _Thanks_?

It's funny actually, the deeper one strikes emotionally, the more one actually achieves in 'supporting' us, the lesser the coherency of the response they'll get in return. _If we even find a way to respond, that is. How does one respond?_

The most wonderful part about it, is that many of those wonderfully supportive people could care less about the level of 'gratitude' in our reply. All they want to do is help. No need for three rows of X-es, no need for a dozen hearts, no need to be 'best friends forever'. Some people are just there.

**xXx**

Damon was there.  
He had just arrived. He checked the address of the apartment building with the one Ric had send him in a text. There it was, right in front of him.

The blue-eyed Salvatore calmly parked his car on the other side of the street. In no hurry to get out, he scanned the dark blue piece of architecture. _Fancy, especially for someone at the beginning of their career,_ he thought to himself. Slightly curious he counted the stories until his eyes found the third floor. There was a light on and no curtains behind the windows.

Damon stepped out of his vehicle and nonchalantly snapped the door shut. When he peered upwards, angling his head the right way, he could see a figure sitting by the window. Elena, he was sure of it.

A humourless chuckle left his lips, as he gathered what he must look like to other people. A creep. A stalker. A lurker, demander of unwanted attention. He was not supposed to be there, but then again, that had always been the case and just like old times: he did not care.

"Don't worry, Damon," Caroline had always insisted, "It's only _creepy_ when it's a _creepy_ guy, when he's as charming and good-looking as you are, it's romantic." _Oh don't we all love double standards_.

So Damon leaned back against the building on the other side and took a few deep breaths as he thought of ways to cross the distance. _Hey, at least she was no longer a minor._

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

"Mom, could you please come and pick me up?" Elena asked shakily over the phone. Damon pricked up his ears at the sound of her distressed voice.

"No. No, I'm fine but-" he heard her retreat after a while. "Yes, but I'm tired and I still have to study this weekend and-"

"I know I should have thought of it sooner Mom, but please, just please, I… Ok. Fine. Good night." After a sigh of defeat, the sound of a mobile phone snapping closed broke the silence. Damon swung his door open a mere second later. "Elena?"

Two feet tiptoed away as fast as they could upon hearing his voice, but Damon was faster and he caught her wrist reflexively.

"Elena?"

"No." With limited effort she pulled her arm back.

"Elena, don't let Adriana get to you guys, she's not w-"

"Just leave me be," Elena interjected, still keeping her back to him and inching closer to Caroline's room.

"I just want you to know that-"

"-that you pity me for being humiliated. Well thank you, Damon. That's very kind. Now have a good night." Elena was about to yank her arm back more forcefully, when she felt his grasp soften and lower, until he was no longer holding her wrist but her hand.

Without a word he intertwined the fingers of his right hand with hers, from behind her, a jolt of electricity spreading through her like wildfire.

When Elena didn't move, Damon made a single step toward her, until his chest touched her back. Careful to find a balance between warmth and decency, he placed his left hand on her upper arm. "Adi doesn't speak for me, you know." Damon spoke softly, turning the trembling girl in his arms round to face him.

"-and had you asked, I would have told you that from where I'm standing you are nothing short of amazing." He lowered his eyes to meet her gaze and Elena found herself forgetting to inhale as she processed, completely awestruck.

"But I'm eighteen, Elena, I don't do truth or dare. And I'm sure as hell not some little brat's puppet. I won't kiss you because Adi asks me to, I wouldn't have done it for her. Doesn't mean I didn't want to though: you look stunning, if it isn't obvious. If you'd been any other girl, I would have you breathless by now. But. I. Care. And it's because I care that I can't be selfish with you. I'm not the guy for you Elena, so I'm letting you go."

Damon unlinked his fingers from hers, and slowly softened his hold on her other arm. With great self-control he reluctantly stepped back, _he_ _was doing the right thing._ Panic flashed briefly in Elena's already wide eyes, and in her refusal to break their unexpected connection, she closed the distance again, tentatively reaching out her hands to cup his jaw.

It was a foreign feeling to both her and him, Elena had never kissed a guy in her life and Damon was most certainly not used to hesitant and tender caresses. Never breaking the connection she had with his piercing blue eyes, Elena stood on her tiptoes. With one hand rested atop his broad shoulder and another still framing his jaw line, she touched her lips to his, revelling in the new sensation of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Kissing Damon was like no other feeling in the world. Elena had heard about falling in love in so many movies and songs, but to actually feel the butterflies flutter in her stomach, experience that joyful bliss, was a whole other thing.

**xXx**

"That was incredible," she whispered breathlessly, clutching Damon closer toward her, her fingers tightly holding onto his shirt.

Damon smiled at the adorable blush that embellished her cheeks, he leaned his forehead to hers. "It was," he whispered.

"Ahgm." A male throat was scraped behind them and when the young lovers looked up they saw a sturdy looking senator rapidly climbing the luxurious staircase.

"Go inside, I'll handle it," Damon dismissed Elena with a quick whisper.

Elena stared at him in confusion, her eyes all worry and concern.

"It's ok," Damon insisted and after a meaningful nod, Elena scurried away back to her friends.

"No it is not," Senator Salvatore announced as his daughter's door slammed shut.

"Frankly father, I don't need your permission," Damon challenged, straightening his shirt.

"Pardon me?" Sir Salvatore uttered menacing.

"I don't obey commands from men who forget to inform their children they're dying," Damon informed his baffled father coldly, leaving the hallway before the man had recovered enough to respond.

**xXx**

**Depression**

_Well I tried to control it, and cover it up.  
I reached out to console it. It was never enough._

**xXx**

Of all the five stages of grief, some say the most persistent one is depression.  
After we've denied.  
And shouted.  
And looked over all alternatives to no avail.  
Sometimes the obvious conclusion is to refrain from speaking all together. _What's the use?_

Some of us shut the world out because friends need not know how dark it can get on that private little island in the back of our minds; while other's will disconnect from all that they love altogether, because they can't bear to stand love, if loving means the risk of losing at one point or another.

**xXx**

It was 10:45 PM and Damon was pacing on the pavement in the drizzling rain. He craved the next stage, it was time to move on, time to break the silence, but he could not figure out how to close the distance between himself and the girl he'd once loved.

It's one of those parts people underestimate. It's not just hard to be gone and to mourn, it's equally hard to come back. It's difficult finding your place in a world that has continued to turn without you, people have moved on.

Sure, the day you cloaked yourself in solitude, you left a hole, perhaps even a big one. But people adapt quickly, and now you're ready to resume your position, that position appears to have ceased to exist. It takes time to have your island grow back onto the main land again.

That was Damon's main concern: how to ever close the distance between them. _Was that even possible? Or desirable? Could he risk that? Did he want to risk it? Damn, his mind was beginning to sound like a broken record. Less thinking and more acting, Salvatore._

After taking a deep breath, Damon stepped back into his car, before he could get himself to turn on the ignition, however, he reached for the phone in his front pocket.

_Now or never, now or never, now or never. Now._

His call was answered on the very first ring.  
"Hi," a familiar warm voice greeted him.  
"Hi."

Seconds ticked away without either of them saying a word.

In the end Elena was the first one to break the silence: "Damon, you have to know that I'm s-"

"No," he interjected instantly. "I mean: please don't," he corrected.

"Why?" Elena wondered slightly pained.

"Because I don't want to hear it now." Damon calmly explained. His tone did not hold the usual malice, it was a statement, not a reproach.

"Then why did you call?" Elena inquired softly, refraining from allowing any accusation to seep into her words.

"Because I want change," Damon stated simply.

"Where would you like to start?" Elena questioned tentatively.

"I don't know," Damon managed after a long moment, before promptly disconnecting the call.

He bumped his head forcefully into the leather. _Dammit what was that? _Shaking his head from left to right he tried to erase the disillusioning conversation. _What the hell had that been? Formal detached bullshit? Where was that thing that had once been 'Damon and Elena'? Where was that magical connection, where was that golden bridge that had been such a given all those years ago._

Damon helplessly looked up at the dark sky and for the first time in long, he found tears prickling in his eyes. Tears of frustration this time. UNFAIR, his thoughts screamed at him. He'd been hurt and he had suffered and he'd still kept Elena at bay for a very long time, if there had been one thing keeping him from truly forgetting about her altogether these past few years, it was the fact that he'd always believed somewhere deep down, the two of them shared a profound connection. Something nothing could possibly compare to.

_Where the hell was that consolation prize when you needed it? Where was the much needed compensation he did not just need but evidently deserved for putting his heart on the line once again?_

Damon's hand came down heavy on his steering wheel, accidentally blowing his horn.

_Of course. If there had been any doubt before, now she most certainly knew he was there_. Irritated and angry, Damon got his phone out, dialling his best friend's number. "Be home in fifteen, make sure Sophie's asleep," Damon snapped angrily, before disconnecting the call without further ado.

**xXx**

_So I tried to forget it, it was all part of the show  
Told myself I'd regret it but what do I know?_  
**xXx**

The little girl was happily sucking her thumb when Ric checked up on her again, her father would be happy. Sophie had been exhausted lately, it was important she got enough sleep. Ric picked the fluffy red blanket up from on the floor, and folded it neatly, letting its softness caress his fingers.

And as he stared across the hallway while folding, he noticed that there was light seeping from underneath Damon's door. _Had his friend come home without him noticing_? Ric put the blanket down and decided to have a look. As he swung the door open wide, the bed did not reveal the blue-eyed Salvatore. On the contrary: half-hidden underneath the covers rested Winnie The Pooh, waiting for company.

Ric chuckled. _Of course_. It was only logical Sophie had picked up on the tension in the house, and Sophie would not be herself if she didn't insist on doing her part. Ric walked toward the pillow, shaking his head before picking up the plush toy, he'd put it back where it belonged in the little girl's bed.

Halfway across the room though, he changed his mind. Perhaps it wasn't his place? He pondered it for a moment. The little toy wasn't going to make his best friend's problems dissipate, but then again: was there anything that did? What made the toy less significant than his words or anyone else's. In the end the toy was merely a gesture.

_Hey. I'm taking a minute of my time to let you know I care.  
Hey. I'm taking a minute of my time to let you know I'm here_.

How could anyone ever object to that?

**xXx**

When Damon strolled back in, barely three minutes later, his glass of bourbon was already waiting for him on the table.

"You know me well," Damon commented dryly, taking a long gulp and positioning himself on the arm of the sofa.

"What? No biting sarcasm? Must have really gone bad?" Ric joked, cupping his own tumbler.

"I don't feel anything. Nothing. Went to Elena's, heard her voice and… Nada. Magic's gone," Damon spoke ruefully, skipping the pleasantries altogether.

"Connections take time, Buddy. Rome wasn't built in a day." Ric shrugged.

"That's the point. We already took our time and we already built Rome," Damon complained, contorting his face into various exaggerated expressions to prove his point."

"Well, Rome wasn't reconstructed in a day either," Ric smirked.

Damon huffed before throwing a pillow.

"She's changed, Ric, I've changed. I know there's this meet-me-halfway movement, but I'm not sure I can do that. She's on her island and I'm on mine and at this point I feel like whoever dives into the water first will die of hypothermia," Damon explained after downing his first glass.

"Good thing you're not a drama queen," Ric commented dryly.

"Shut up," Damon kindly offered.

"You know what I think?" Ric started.

"That it's Friday night and you should get going and forget all about stalking employees? Epic plan!" Damon contributed sarcastically.

"Ha-ha. No, I think you just don't let yourself care. I think deep down you keep your distance because you're afraid to get attached again," Ric spoke confidently.

"Wow Sherlock. Epic work. And then to consider that some people believe you need to be a tampon-user for that kind of profound thinking." Damon stood up and clasped his friend's shoulder. "Seriously though, I wanna go to sleep."

"Fine. Avoid every meaningful conversation-"

"Exactly!" Damon interjected. "Happy to see you still catch my drift," he uttered a tat too exuberantly.

"One last piece of information: I did re-hire her."

"A Female Santa Claus?" Damon questioned hopefully.

Ric rolled his eyes, "I wish, Damon. I wish."

"Me too!" Damon voiced petulantly.

"She'll be working for me from now on, however, until you get a grip that is," Ric spoke with a hint of accusation.

"Me?" Damon demanded incredulously.

"Yeah: you. Or do you still plan of selling me on the whole 'I treated her like any other assistant' crap?" Ric inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," Damon conceded, "But if she breaks your heart: don't come crying to me," Damon sing-songed.

"Rest assured, buddy, I wasn't planning to make a move on her, girl-code and all," Ric winked.

"Pff, buy a tampon already," Damon mumbled, before showing his friend out and shutting the door.

**xXx**

Three weeks later

The calm had returned to Saltzman and partners[CVD1] . The company was doing well, the numbers were up and the projects appeared to be getting more prestigious by the week. Damon and Elena hadn't grown significantly closer but the previous hostility had lost some of its edge. Rather than seeking confrontation, the two had been successfully avoiding one another and that was working out just fine for both.

"Thank you for gathering," Ric's voice boomed loudly through the conference room. Elena leaned back against the cold wooden door, there were far too many people in the confined and overly heated room, it was a hot summer's [CVD2] day.

"I'm sorry we couldn't provide chairs for all of you, but this will only take a second," Ric apologized to the back of the room, where over seventeen people stood uncomfortably squeezed together in between the closets, the plant and some random furniture.

"The reason why I called you all together is because of the ABREV[CVD3] -project. We have four million dollar on the line there, it's crucial you're all up-to-date on the basic-"

The door in the back swung open, bumping hard against Elena's head. She reflexively reached for the sore spot, until she realized everyone was staring and refrained.

"_Nice_ of you to join us Mister Salvatore," Ric spoke through clenched teeth. He eyed Elena concerned as he saw his best friend involuntarily take place right by her side.

"As I was saying," Ric continued, "it's imperative you're all aware of our basic guidelines regarding that case."

Elena's head was pounding wildly and she hadn't been feeling that great to begin with. Unfortunately Damon was blocking access to the door now, leaning against it casually. She eyed the various chairs in the room. For just a moment she pondered asking someone if she could sit down, but she soon thought better of it. It was equally warm and uncomfortable for those other people, she simply had to wait it out. Perhaps someone on the other side would think to open a window or something, or maybe Damon would step away from the door in a minute and she could take his place.

"Please remember for the entire length of this project that it will be our number one priority, I do not care if other projects run a bit behind, we will find solutions to pick up the slack-"

Damon couldn't focus, not with Elena standing that close. He could practically feel her skin. They were standing unusually close and it made him feel uncomfortable_. __Was it ridiculously hot in the room or was that just him? And where had all the air gone? Elena clearly had the same issue._

Almost reflexively Damon checked the colour of her cheeks like he had one million times before. As expected her usual blush was nowhere to be found now and her face had turned ashen.

_Damn_. Damon shook his head. _Damn, damn_. He glanced at his colleagues. W_as anyone else paying attention? Why hadn't anyone noticed her change in colour?_ Ric seemed to rattle on and keep everyone entertained.

_Why was Elena still in that room, how come she hadn't stepped out yet? She knew she had low blood-pressure_. Damon glanced at the door. _Of course, he was blocking her path_. The second that fact sunk in, he stepped aside, granting her access.

Elena turned her head toward the exit and took a hesitant step. Damon searched for her eyes, but she appeared to look right through him. Elena wasn't even aware of his attention anymore, sounds faded into the background and all of a sudden her eyes lost vision, right before Damon's eyes.

He reached out his arm on instinct and supported her weight a second later. He turned her doorknob sideways and opened the door, guiding Elena outside. Hardly any of their colleagues even noticed their departure as they concentrated on Ric's speech.

"Easy," Damon spoke softly. He'd swung Elena's arm over his shoulder and held her tightly as they inched toward his office. "You're ok, we're almost there, a few more inches and you can lay down," Damon promised, suddenly grateful that his office was right next to the conference room.

A lone colleague peeked his head around the corner, "Is she ok? Need some help?"

"No, she just faints easily. I've got her," Damon replied, continuing the routine they had been through dozens of times before.

The blue eyed Salvatore pushed the door open with his foot, as he escorted Elena to the sofa by the wall. With great care he lay her down, taking off her boots and lifting her feet on top of the side. "There you go," he whispered. On second thought he put one more pillow in between her legs and the sofa, the blood needed to flow back down.

Next he closed the blinds and opened the window and suddenly there was nothing more to do, except wait for her to regain colour. Forty seconds went by, fourth long second for Damon to care for the fragile and mesmerizing girl that still haunted many of his dreams. He couldn't help tucking a loose stand of hair behind her ear as she recovered. Taking care of her wasn't optional, it felt more like second nature.

Elena's eyelids fluttered open and slightly disoriented she scanned the room. "What happened? Where am I? Why-, Damon?" she questioned surprised, and slightly panicked. She tried to sit up but instantly felt lightheaded because of the abrupt movement.

"Wouldn't try that yet if I were you," Damon joked. "You fainted, but you're fine now," he promised. He offered her a glass of water.

"Oh! The meeting!" Elena remembered. "Ric said it was-"

"You have a decent excuse, trust me, he won't mind," Damon reassured her. He knew how she felt about responsibilities, she wasn't one to disobey orders.

"I should have taken a proper breakfast along with me this morning. I was supposed to be taking notes!" A frown appeared on Elena's forehead.

"Hey, it's not your fault you fainted. It was far too warm in there anyway," Damon supplied.

"Hmm." Elena slowly rose to her feet, putting her shoes on again before making her way toward the door.

"Thanks for euhm-, well thank you. I'm going to let you get back to work. Sorry for the inconvenience," Elena mumbled slightly embarrassed.

"It's alright. You can sit down a little longer if you want to. Let me go get you some crackers from the kitchen," Damon suggested, still feeling that same need to make sure she was alright.

"It's fine, I'll get them. Thanks though." Elena rushed out quickly, before Damon could interject.

**xXx**

It was eight PM when Elena parked her car onto the gravel. Her fingers were playing with the hem of her shirt. Fumbling. Fidgeting. _This was not a good idea_.

Hesitantly, she stepped out of the car, almost tripping over some plants by the side of the driveway. She adjusted her posture and tried walking a little straighter. _There. Of course she could do it_.

For a moment she tried to check her appearance in the shiny reflection of her car. Not that it was any use, the distorted figure that stared back, definitely wasn't her. She weighed the cookies in her right hand again, perfect, not too many, but still enough. _Perhaps she should take one to settle that nervous feeling in her stomach._

_Why had she even baked cookies? And why was she here delivering them. What had changed? Had anything changed? Would her presence be an intrusion? Was she an unwanted visitor. Was there even anyone home? Again, why was she even here? They had to talk, it had been a while now and today might have been a turning point. Things could turn around, couldn't they?_

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the doorbell. Now or never, now or never, now or never. Now. She pressed.

Exactly forty seconds later an exuberant little girl swung the door wide open. "Elena!" she announced enthusiastically. "Elena?," her father questioned, he'd only been two steps behind.

For a second Elena appeared to be frozen on the spot, until she remembered the purpose of her visit. "I made cookies," she spoke, her voice warm though a bit unsure. Tentatively she reached out her hand toward Damon, handing him the cookies before taking a step back.

"I wanted to thank you. For today," Elena added, eying him briefly, before looking at Sophie's radiant smile. "I baked them at my mother's, your house was on my way home, I thought-"

"You're welcome," Damon told her, "And thank you for the cookies." He handed the package to Sophie, and just like Elena, he couldn't help enjoying the little girl's enthusiasm. "I think this one's up for a visitor," Damon pondered, putting his hand on his daughter's shoulder, "Would you like to come in?"

**xXx**

There are five stages of grief. They might not all last equally long in every case, or be equally elaborate, but there are always five. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. **Acceptance**. No matter what the journey's like: in the end there will be a point where we find some kind of peace, even if we can't pinpoint the exact moment when things started 'looking up again'.

In the end, we might not be able to forgive and forget everything we've been through, but we do find a way to move on.

We climb that mountain.  
We float to the surface again.  
We will see that sun rise and we will know that somehow we survived.  
A brand new day with brand new possibilities.  
_Wonderful? Isn't it?_

**xXx**

_So come let me take this through the end  
of all these useless dreams of living  
So come let me in…_

**_xXx_**


	8. My immortal

**xXx**

Elena's eyes broke contact with Sophie's for a second, on one hand she truly wanted to come in and have a real conversation with Damon, for once, but on the other hand she was anxious. _What if her good intentions backfired?_

"Are you sure it's alright?" stressed Elena, a nervous frown making its way onto her forehead.

"Should I believe you really came _all_ the way here just to drop off cookies then?" joked Damon, raising his eyebrow. "Because if that's the case…"

Elena only smiled wryly, they weren't back to effortless humour yet and she didn't quite know how to respond.

"Just kidding," Damon added quickly, upon seeing her distress, "Come in."

"Yeah, please come in!" Sophie repeated.

Her father eyed his watch. "Isn't it bedtime for you yet, young Lady?" he wondered out loud.

The little girl's face fell instantly and her smile contorted into a pitiful pout, "But daddy-"

Sophie couldn't really find the words, but her wide eyes spoke volumes. It had been obvious from the start that the little girl vastly looked up to Elena. Damon knew that all too well.

"Fine, just go put your pyjamas on really quickly, then I'll see if we can let you stay a little while longer," he promised.

Sophie nodded eagerly before racing up the stairs. Damon couldn't help but smile, it clearly meant a lot to his five-year-old to have some female company around. _He'd known Elena was up for talking to his little girl. Why hadn't he facilitated a conversation sooner?_ Then it dawned on him again. _Right_.

Elena visibly stiffened as she saw his demeanour change. Suddenly that warm, comfortable smile of his was nowhere to be found.

"Elena, you can't-" Damon started. _Can't what?_ Can't braid her hair, can't be nice to her, can't make her grow fond of you? _Can't what? _'Damon couldn't find the way to put his thoughts into words and neither could Elena, although she nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.

A part of her wanted to scream, however. Scream or cry or do anything to finally make him understand that hurting him had never been part of the plan. It was not something she had ever intended. _Period_. She was not that kind of person. _Period_.

What had happened, had happened. There was no denying that of course. But their rocky break-up had never been _a 'choice'_ of hers, nor had it been a conscious decision. On the contrary, it was the perfect example of forced decision-making: take the bad option instead of risking one even worse. It had been a case of 'stop the bleeding at all costs'. The infection that had been a direct result of her sloppy and inexperienced handy work, was something she'd always regretted. Still, Elena cherished the silent hope that Damon would see the facts for what they were one day. That he could open his eyes for the big picture just once. _Perhaps tonight could be that night_, Elena couldn't help but wish. That's what she came for, wasn't it?

Instead of finishing the words that had died in silence, Elena simply met his blue orbs with pleading brown ones. Doe eyes that conveyed openness and sincerity, no hidden agenda, and no cards up her sleeve.

Damon almost stomped his foot on the hard wooden floor as he gathered that his mind refused to question her intentions. _What about rational thinking? What about the past?_

"One chance," Elena managed, barely above a whisper.

Damon tried to keep his composure, to reign all his emotions in while uttering a convinced, yet strict: "One chance." It didn't work, however, and instead of sounding like the high school Principle, the yearning in the repeated words sounded more like the musing on a naïve schoolboy.

"I'm changed!" exclaimed Sophie proudly, taking Elena's hand in hers and then clasping her father's. "Let's move to the sofa!" she suggested joyfully, dragging the two adults along.

As soon as her father sat down, the little girl instantly nestled herself in his lap, grabbing a blanket. Then she grabbed hold of her young cat and practically tossed it to Elena. _Poor Tiger_.

"Soph! Careful!" admonished Damon.

"Sorry," Sophie drew. "I just thought Elena might want someone too, since I'm sitting with you…" she explained.

"How considerate." Elena smiled.

"Oh. Wait. Are you thirsty? Did you ask, daddy? Aunt Caroline says you always have to ask people if they want a drink when they come visit!"

Elena shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and Damon shook his head. Gone was the blanket and the little bundle of exuberance on his lap, as Sophie rapidly skipped to the kitchen to fetch a plastic cup and some water from the tap. Damon felt sorry seeing Elena's guilty expression, as they heard his daughter pushing her step-stool toward the sink.

"You know what?" started Damon, "If we're trying, then we're trying. Period. No judgment tonight, we'll just… try," spoke Damon.

Elena responded with a grateful nod, trying to push through the awkwardness. "How's Caroline?" she inquired softly, eyes slightly anxious as she gauged his expression.

"She's abroad with her husband, over the moon and hopelessly in love of course, you know Care," Damon rolled his eyes.

"You know aunt Care?" Sophie wanted to know as she arrived with the water. She mumbled a quick apology, after spilling a bit of it on Elena's dress, when handing it over. "Don't apologize, it'll dry," Elena reassured Sophie warmly.

Upon seeing his little girl's delighted expression, Damon answered her question himself. "They were best friends in high school," he informed his daughter with a small smile.

Sophie beamed up at Elena, Damon had known she would. Ever since her mother had left, Sophie had been clinging increasingly to Caroline, a connection between Elena and his sister, would only make Sophie respect Elena more.

"Aunt Caroline is daddy's sister," Sophie explained to Elena. _You don't say._ Both adults chuckled simultaneously. "But they don't look anything alike," the little girl added.

"Oh I think they do," Elena responded spontaneously. "They're both very driven and protective of the ones they love," she insisted, only vaguely aware of the interest with which Damon was listening.

"What's driven?" questioned Sophie.

"Driven is that you know what you want and you go after it," explained Elena.

"Grandpa says that a lot…" mused Sophie, "_You should know what you want_," she imitated in a low voice.

Elena chuckled. "Yes, your grandpa is definitely the kind of man who's driven," she agreed.

"You know grandpa too?" Sophie asked surprised.

Straightening her dress unconsciously, Elena turned to Damon, who eyed her apprehensively in turn. _Had she spoken out of turn?_

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

"He lied to me! He lied to me. He's lying to Caroline. He's lying to everyone!" exclaimed Damon exasperated, hands waving frantically through wide open space to make his point.

"Like we're nothing. Like we don't have the right to know anything. Like he doesn't trust us, at all. It's so-" Damon took a random stick and threw it away, as far into the woods as it would go. It splintered into pieces as it hit a tree on its course.

"I hate it! I hate what he's become. The people in politics… they stop being people. They turn into monsters and they don't-, they don't see what's important anymore. I mean Dad, he's just being blind-"

A few insects crept to safety as Damon lifted a heavier branch, snapped off its twigs and threw it even further away than he had managed to throw the stick.

"He's not my dad like this! I don't recognize him. That man with all his fancy ties and interviews… he'd not the father that raised me," Damon ranted.

Elena nodded in understanding, but she didn't say a word. She knew by now that it was no use. First and foremost because her boyfriend didn't mean half of the words he was saying and secondly because he was simply stressed out and anxious lately. All she could do was be there for him.

As Damon appeared to have calmed down a bit, Elena moved to stand behind the fallen trunk he'd taken place on. Tenderly, she ran her fingers through his raven hair until he gave a soft hum of contentment. _There_. _Already slightly better_.

"You know that if you'd like to talk about it-" she tried.

"Elena, you know I can't tell you…" Damon instantly interjected.

"I do. I get it. It's not right for me to know if Caroline doesn't know… but still, Damon, if you need to talk about it, then maybe you could… I don't know: think of a metaphor or something?" suggested Elena.

Her boyfriend chuckled dryly, "I appreciate the effort, baby, I really do, but those are more your thing and I don't think one would apply here," Damon offered delicately.

"Ok," Elena conceded.

"Since we're talking about family, however, how are things going with your parents lately?" Damon inquired gently, pulling his girlfriend onto his lap.

Elena allowed him to hold her close for a second before responding. "Still separate rooms," she mused ruefully, "they're not even talking."

"They're not?" inquired Damon surprised. The Gilbert family had always seemed such a strong and connected family to him. He had a hard time believing that such a warm and considerate family could experience such troubles. "Do you know what happened yet?" he questioned.

Elena's face fell and Damon instantly regretted his question as he saw tears brimming in her eyes. "Well-," she stammered, "yesterday after school I was standing in line at the pastry shop and Liv from Mom's work, she-," Elena paused before getting it together again, "-she said dad cheated on Mom," Elena managed softly, before her voice trailed off.

They sat in silence for a moment. Warm teardrops trailed down Damon's skin as Elena hid her face in his neck. He held her closely, cradling her into his arms until the sobs died down. In that moment he just knew, knew that he always wanted to be that person for her. The one to hold her, the one she would run to. He was her protector, her white knight, and she, in turn, was his princess, his to cherish and love. Always and forever, 'til kingdom come.

**xXx**

_When you cry I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me_

**xXx**

Present Day

"Yes Sophie," replied Damon, giving Elena a reassuring nod. He wasn't going to snap at her. Not tonight. If Elena wanted one normal night to talk and have an honest conversation, then he could manage that. He had to. Once. The way they'd been pushing each other's buttons wasn't healthy anymore, something had to change. Furthermore, if he was being truly honest with himself, he had to admit that he needed one of those nights too. A simple night without complications, with someone other than Ric. That was all he was asking.

"Elena and aunt Caroline went to high school together. They were best friends, so when they were kids they had a lot of sleepovers. Sometimes aunt Caroline would stay over at Elena's, and sometimes Elena would come to us, to your grandparent's house," Damon clarified.

"So you _knew_ Elena?" spoke Sophie, stressing the verb in her sentence as if this was the revelation of a lifetime.

"Hm," her father confirmed.

His little girl crossed her arms. "That must have been so much fun," she spoke ruefully. "You… and Elena… and aunt Caroline… I bet you played a lot of Monopoly," mused Sophie.

"Oh not just Monopoly," he father remarked dryly. Elena's skin tingled slightly at the memory of their post-truth-or-dare make-out session.

"Is that why you and Daddy work together? Because you were friends?" Sophie concluded innocently.

"Euhm, no," Elena replied honestly, "Your Dad and I hadn't talked in a while when I took the job," she explained.

Sophie eyed her father confused. "We grew apart, sweetheart, we didn't see each other again after high school," Damon informed his little girl, giving her the most civil and euphemistic version of events he'd ever given anyone regarding his and Elena's past.

"Why?" asked Sophie, not understanding any of it.

Damon had expected Elena's big doe eyes searching his for help, but instead, she surprised him by replying herself.

She looked down, one hand almost compulsively straightening out the other one as she spoke: "We had a fight and I made a mistake," she admitted.

Of course that caught Sophie's attention and as she shifted all the way to the edge of her father's lap, she predictably wondered, "What happened?"

"I did a bad thing," Elena started, refusing to meet anyone's eyes as she concentrated on phrasing an explanation that would satisfy both Sophie and her father, "I did a bad thing to aunt Caroline and to your father as well," Elena admitted guilty.

"What did you do then?" Sophie inquired, not at all aware of the sensitivity of the matter at hand.

"It was a long time ago," Elena started, "I was still in high school-"

"Elena, you don't _have to_…" Damon interrupted, finding it unexpectedly hard and uncomfortable to see his ex-girlfriend in agony over the story which he, himself, had repeatedly used to torment her.

"She can know," Elena replied curtly, before continuing. "As I was saying: I was still in high school when it all went down, and your dad and I were pretty close back then," she started, avoiding piercing blue eyes.

"And then one day, a really bad person showed up and they wanted to hurt your Dad and your Granddad, and ultimately… they used me to do it…"

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

_"Damon… what happened?" the familiar warm voice all but breathed in his ear. He cursed himself for his concerned eyes, his tapping foot. He wasn't_that _guy, the guy who needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to. It was all bullshit. Problems didn't magically vanish into thin air simply by talking about them._

_That was the problem with dating women. Young. Mature. Naïve or educated. If there was one thing they all had in common, it was the fact that any one of them could spot emotions from a mile away. Drama._Alert_. Sometimes he felt like they had a sixth sense for that kind of thing._

_"Damon, are you ok?" Elena tried gingerly, instinctively sensing his distress._

_"No," Damon replied, deciding honesty might be the best approach after all._

_"Do you want to talk about it?" Elena asked softly._

_"No," Damon retorted, equally swift, pulling her in his lap as he spoke the words to avoid hurting her feelings._

_"Damon…" Elena drew._

_"Elena, I'm a man, remember? The sex that generally says what they mean instead of the exact opposite. I'm simple that way. When I say 'No', I honestly mean, 'No, let's NOT discuss it.'," Damon insisted._

_"But I_want _to know," Elena pressed. "You've been acting strange all week and I-, I-"_

_To be young. In love and insecure… A deep sigh escaped Damon's lips._

_"It has nothing to do with you, Elena, honestly. I've just been having a hard week, that's all," Damon tried to reassure her._

_Suddenly the sound of a snapping twig caught his attention and he moved to sit next to Elena, their skin no longer touching._

_"You're doing it again!" Elena accused. "You've been avoiding me all week… First you won't kiss me, then you don't want to be seen with me around school, now you can't even touch me. If we're over then just tell me!" Elena snapped emotionally._

_Again. To be young. In love. And insecure. Damon thought._

_His cautious and focused stare softened and he tenderly grabbed hold of his girlfriend's hand. "If I tell you, then that's it, alright? You do not get to worry about _my _problems, or undertake any actions to fight _my _battles. If I tell you, then that's where our conversation stops. You'll let it go and let me handle it. Understood?" Damon questioned seriously._

_Elena hesitated for a moment but realized she had no option but to take the offer. "Fine," she conceded._

_"They know." Damon replied simply._

_Elena's eyes widened in horror. "But they don't even_know _me!" Elena exclaimed. "And we haven't-, we-" she stammered._

_"It doesn't matter, Elena, people create their own truth. It's not about the facts, but about the way people interpret them. He who writes the story holds the power…" Damon's voice trailed off._

_"They can't do that! We didn't do anything wrong!" Elena insisted._

_"They have pictures," Damon admitted softly, "We've been followed. I found them today in the mailbox," he added ruefully._

_"They can't do that! It's not fair. We. Didn't. Do. Anything. I mean, why are we even being cautious and patient if it doesn't matter in the end?!" Elena spat out angrily._

_"Because you_deserve _cautious and patient…" Damon whispered, calming her down and breaking the anxious haze for a moment. It grounded Elena enough to clear her mind._

_"What did your father say?" Elena asked gingerly, eyes tormented and apologetic._

_"My father loves you, he doesn't blame you. He doesn't blame me either, he's just… trying to find us a way out of this. If those pictures are leaked to the press…"_

_"Maybe we should-"_

_"No. We will not be intimidated. I've considered all the options and I've made my decision," Damon interrupted her, trying to sound determined. He knew she heard his voice waver, though, heard the silent fear seeping in. She knew he couldn't lose her, because those melted eyes of hers saw right through him._

_"How bad can this get? I mean… what do they want? Money? A vote?" Elena wondered uneasily, already knowing she wouldn't like the answer._

_"They want my father to withdraw his bid for re-election," Damon voiced softly._

_"Or else?" Elena dared to ask, but only barely above a whisper._

_"Or else they're threatening to have me charged with statutory rape," Damon managed around the lump in his throat._

_"Jail?" Elena shrieked panicked._

_Damon nodded._

_Tears sprang freshly in Elena's eyes and she shook her head mechanically from left to right, seemingly in trance. "But we didn't and it's not fair and…"_

_"And they have pictures from the night in your room, pictures that include me barely clad and you-, well you were there, you remember…"_

_"No!" Elena exclaimed. "They can't do that!"_

_"Well apparently they can."_

_"__But how can it matter that we're together. We're not hurting anyone, right. There are plenty of couples just like us. No one ever gets charged, why you? Why us?"_

_"__This is not about you or me," Damon sight. "This is about someone wanting to steal my dad's election. Someone who has a prosecutor in his pocket crazy enough to go the extra mile. This is not about who did what, this is about creating a scandal at the exact right moment." Damon explained._

_"And what about Mister Delors_[CVD1] _? He'll never agree with your father bowing out. He has to have some kind of plan, right?" Elena inquired, slightly delirious._

_Damon looked down at twigs beneath their feet. He didn't say a word, but he'd never been that good of an actor to begin with._

_"He has, hasn't he? Please tell me! If there's a plan you have to tell me!" Elena stressed. _

_"No." Damon denied determined._

_"Yes." Elena bit back almost angrily, she wasn't taking no for an answer. If anyone had a way out of the coercion, she demanded to know how._

_"Baby, it's not one I'm willing to consider," Damon told her firmly._

_"Well, if the choice is one between your father giving all he's worked for or you risking jail, I think you have to be plain stupid not to look for a plan C!" Elena all but yelled._

_Over the course of the prior three months, she'd gotten to know the senator better. Gotten to know him as an intelligent, yet open man. He knew she loved his son, and he knew she was too young, still Elena could see the joy in his eyes whenever Giuseppe caught his son smiling up at her._

_The man fervently loved his family and Elena respected that about him. She gravely admired him, often considering that Mr. Salvatore was the very last senator with any sense of integrity. Perhaps it was also because of her own father's escapades that she felt all the more close to Giuseppe and his family._

_Yet Giuseppe's career wasn't the only one at stake. Damon in jail… That was an idea that frightened her even more. How could her sweet and loving boyfriend possibly end up doing time simply because of politics. _

_"Damon," Elena tried again, her voice softer this time as she nestled herself in his lap._

_Damon gave her a pained look._

_"Please," she all but pleaded._

_"Delors wants to use you." Damon spat out the words as if they were acid. "But it doesn't matter, I won't let him and neither will my father!" Damon spoke defiantly._

_"Use me how?" Elena asked confused._

_"They want to use you in the press." Damon scoffed, "It would 'contain the issue'," Damon air quoted._

_"But how," Elena stressed._

_"They want to write you a speech, in which you tell the media how you seduced me. The ruse they came up with had something to do with your father's business, I don't even understand half of it. But it's despicable!" Damon dismissed the plan._

_"But I can do that! Don't you see that Damon? I could totally pull it off! And then you would be safe and your father could run, and perhaps he'd be even be more popular, it could totally work!" Elena argued, happy with the alternative._

_"No!" Damon objected, taking her chin in his hand to have her face him. "NO. No._**_No_**_.__No__. No! Did I mention: no!" he huffed. "You're 15, you don't get it, but if you do that, then it will follow you everywhere for the rest of your career. You won't ever be remembered for your writing, or your work, all people will remember is that you were the girl who tried to sleep with the senator's son to cost his father the election!" Damon snapped._

_"Well if that means we can be together then I don't care." Elena challenged._

_"God, your naïve!" Damon exclaimed exasperated. "You really don't understand it, do you?" he demanded. "If you speak up and tell them some lie about deceiving me, then that means that we can never ever be seen together again. No more hugs, no more talking, no more anything!"_

_"Do you have a better plan then?" Elena bit back._

_"Yes." Damon spoke determined. "The truth," he added. "We did not sleep together: we didn't do ANYTHING wrong!" he exclaimed, his voice one pitch too high._

_Elena was silent. She didn't know how to reply. Damon would not back down, she understood that much, but allowing him to risk prison was not something she could handle._

_The pair stared into the distance for a long while before either of them spoke again._

_"I'm afraid, Damon," Elena whispered, hiding her face in the crook of his neck once again._

_"Don't be. We will be ok," Damon insisted, kissing the top of her head before going for her lips._

_He didn't see the rueful smile flashing by, before Elena wrapped her arms around him once more, closer than ever. Her fingers threaded in his hair and one final time, she gave her all, because contrary to Damon she knew. True love's kiss wasn't going to save them this time, they needed a miracle. And one should never forget: all magic comes with a price…_

**_xXx_**

_And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_

**xXx**

Present day

"And then one day, some really bad people showed up and they wanted to hurt your Dad and your Granddad, and ultimately… they wanted to use me to do it…"

Elena's words lingered in the dimly lit room for quite some time before anyone spoke again.

"So, you fought off the bad guys, right?" Sophie insisted. There was no instant reply. "Daddy?"

His daughter's voice broke him out of reverie, and as the responsible adult he didn't have the luxury to falter or take a beat when needed. The fact that Damon was struggling did not escape Elena, she still knew him all too well.

"Sophie, I think Tiger is tired. Will you show me where we can put him to bed?" Elena wondered.

"Sure!" she little girl replied, oblivious to her father's state of mind as she hopped off his lap. "Follow me!" she ordered happily, leading Elena to the kitchen.

"Whoa, that's one beautiful pillow," Elena commented as she put Tiger down on the fluffy pink fabric.

"I know!" Sophie contributed, beaming up at Elena. "I have one in my room too. Would you like to see it?"

A big part of Elena simply wanted to say yes, but then she remembered the fragile state of her new connection with Damon. Nosing around in the bedrooms upstairs might not be a great plan, especially since chances were that the little girl's room would contain pictures of her mother and those conversations were a minefield Elena still preferred to evade.

"How about we make you some hot chocolate first? You liked that the other day, didn't you?" Elena inquired.

When Sophie nodded, she took a three some cups and filled them with milk so they could be put into the microwave, they would add the powder later.

The two girls drank their milk in a few long gulps, laughing about their milk moustaches. After putting their cups back into the sink, Elena carried Damon's cup to the living room.

"The bad guys left right?" Sophie checked, remembering the story again.

"Yes, the bad guys left" Elena assured Sophie.

"Daddy, we made you Hot Chocolate," Sophie informed him with a smile as her father accepted the cup. She attempted to crawl on top of her father's lap but he stopped her. "Wait a second sweetheart, or you're going to make me spill it," he explained.

His little girl didn't mind, however. Wordlessly she crawled over to the other side of the sofa. "Can I sit on your lap?" she asked sweetly, looking straight into Elena's eyes.

"Of course you can," Elena instantly replied, helping the five-year-old.

"I like you…" Sophie noted absentmindedly.

"Well, I like you too sweetie." Elena confided.

That was not according to plan. And it was not how things were supposed to be. But Damon couldn't keep himself from watching his daughter snuggle against the girl he'd once loved. It was everything. And against the odds he caught himself wishing it was real.

_**xXx**_

your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone

_**xXx**_


	9. Youth

**xXx**

Love is everything. Love is a reason to live. But however strong love may be, it's equally fragile. If one does not take care of it, nurture and feed it, it might not survive.  
Love is like a child, it grows and it cannot be neglected.

We build a foundation upon trust and memories. We maintain love with understanding, care and forgiveness. We build it brick by brick, with mutual effort and consideration.  
But what if we turn our backs for one moment too long and those walls we've constructed come crumbling down. What if the damage is no longer fixable with a drop of new paint?  
What if one day we'll face the ruins of a house that's been declared 'uninhabitable'?

Will you demolish?  
Or will you reconstruct?  
And above all: who's to pay that price?

**xXx**

_"Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time.  
From the perfect start to the finish line."_

**xXx**

"She's a wonderful little girl, Damon. You did well," Elena wholeheartedly praised him as the tired father slumped into the sofa next to her. He was exhausted. Putting his daughter to sleep was never the easiest part of the day. And having her excited over their visitor, on top of everything else, most certainly hadn't made it easier.

"I just hope she actually goes to sleep this time, my 'wonderful little girl' has a tendency of drawing bedtime out," he commented, adjusting his posture so the top of the stairs remained in his peripheral vision.

"Well, what child likes bedtime? You definitely never did!" replied Elena. "Over the years I've lost count of how many times I ran into you after twelve. Or the times I caught you coming in through the window, pretty sure that's quite a remarkable number too." She chuckled quietly.

Damon smiled tightly. "Let's say that I hope she doesn't take after either of her parents. I can do without the levels of anxiety that would put me through!" Damon mused out loud.

"Oh, you weren't so bad," retorted Elena. "Life just wasn't that simple for you and Care," she added.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Damon instantly got defensive.

"Nothing. Nothing bad. I just meant that you two had to take care of yourselves from a rather young age. With your father up in high politics and your mom hosting all those society events, it was only natural that you and Caroline grew up to be quite independent. I don't remember your parents being home that often… It's not so weird you acted out. That's all," Elena replied in a small voice. Her shy tone in sharp contrast with the words she uttered.

"My father may have had a busy job, but he _was_ _actually there_ when I needed him," Damon reminded her, the meaningful look he gave her matching the silent accusation in his words. He couldn't help himself, it was the truth after all…

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

"No, Damon, you do not 'already know what I'm going to say'. So why don't you sit down and hold your tongue for a moment. Can you manage that or is it not within the realm of your capabilities, boy?" Giuseppe inquired strictly.

A reluctant Damon rolled his eyes and sank into the plush chair of the Senator's office.

"So?" demanded Damon, challenging his father's authority yet again.

"So I was planning to lecture you on the drinking and the drugs, not to mention: you sneaking out of our house at 4 AM like a criminal… But since we only have one hour, I decided to skip that part of our conversation." Giuseppe comfortably leaned his back against the expensive desk, his features relaxing as his tone grew warmer.

Honestly, I have no intention of fighting once more, Damon. What I'd really like to know, however, is why your school results and your reputation have ceased to matter to you," his father started, surprising Damon.

"They have not," he muttered.

"Is it the young girl you've been dating? Caroline's friend?" Giuseppe inquired, knowing he'd strike a nerve that way.

"No!" Damon instantly replied. "Of course not! If anything she's an incentive to change, father!" he rushed out.

"Well, that is what I told you mother, but lately you've had me doubting that. Need I explain to you the nature of the consequences if you prove me wrong?" he inquired.

Damon's eyes went wide with disbelief. "What?" he demanded. "I thought you-"

"- that I think you should not publicly date a fifteen-year old? Well, of course I do. But you've been missing something in your life, Damon. In all these years I've been watching you. I've never seen you have a friend, a true friend, someone who would be there for you through anything. Regardless of what your mother thinks, I can see Elena being that person for you." Giuseppe told his bewildered son calmly. "She's a… special girl… Therefore, I don't think she's a bad influence."

"I don't understand…" Damon murmured, slightly uncomfortable as he lost every grasp on the conversation. _Was this a new tactic of his father's? Was he being serious? Or was it a side-effect from the cancer medication?_

"You don' turn 57 before learning a thing or two about life, Damon. I have gained some perspective. There is no need for you to understand. All I'd like for you to know is that you should take this opportunity to turn your life around," spoke Giuseppe.

"Does that mean I can date her?" Damon asked confused.

"Well, you _have_ been dating her, haven't you?" Giuseppe eyed his son, glancing beneath his glasses. "And I believe we should grant you the opportunity to meet up with her, to court her, in our house of course, so the official story will always be that she's visiting Caroline. Furthermore I expect you to keep your door unlocked at all times, I believe that speaks for itself of course. But apart from that, I take no issue with the two of you having an euhm- emotional connection. I too was young once, you know?" concluded Giuseppe.

"And mom?" Damon inquired.

"Your mother has not changed her mind on the matter, plus her plate has been rather full," Giuseppe spoke ruefully, pointing at the small tube that was temporarily pumping medication into the catheter hiding underneath his shirt. "In regard to that, I also expect you to understand that neither Elena, nor Caroline, are to know about my little… predicament," Giuseppe informed him, eying him meaningfully.

"Predicament? Father, you can't-"

"-keep this from Caroline forever, I know that too Damon, thank you for reminding me though," Giuseppe commented sarcastically.

"Let's not forget that your sister has exams now, we have a campaign to run and I would like for this Christmas to be as perfect as it can be. I _will_ tell your sister. If this treatment turns out to be ineffective, then I _will_ tell your sister. But until then I would like to enjoy her carefree spirit a little while longer. This Sunday perhaps, I think we should all have dinner together. Would you like to invite Elena too?" Giuseppe inquired politely.

"Father, I-" Damon swallowed. It was hard for him seeing his father suffer. On top of that, there never seemed to be a time when he could process what was happening. And Damon cared, he loved his father. Yet uttering those words never appeared to be convenient either.

"A yes or no answer will do, son. Would you like for Caroline to invite Elena?" Giuseppe questioned once again.

"Yes," mumbled Damon.

"Good. You're dismissed then," Giuseppe offered, touching his son's shoulder lightly. His eighteen-year-old, however, stepped in, much to his father's surprise. Before Giuseppe even realized what was happening he felt his son's arms constrict around him. "Please don't die, Dad," damon whispered against his father's freshly ironed shirt.

"I'll try, my boy," Giuseppe whispered back, before he was left alone in his office again. "I try."

**xXx**

"And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.  
'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs."

_**xXx**_

Present Day

_"My father may have had a busy job, but he was actually there was I needed him."_

The words appeared to echo through the room, slowly settling underneath both their skins.

Damon didn't miss the hurt in Elena's eyes as they accidentally slipped into his line of vision.  
Elena, in turn, saw that same pain reflect in his.

Still they both knew, both remembered that the statement had once been untrue. At one point in history, they _had_ been there for one another. And the fact that they'd made a difference in the each other's life, was something that could never be denied…

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

"Damon?"

Elena's senses switched to high alert as she heard what could be perceived as a sob, resounding softly from behind her. Damon was holding her. Tightly. He had his arms wrapped around her, pressing her back into his chest. It gave him comfort.

They were standing in front of the window. The curtain was closed, no reflection. And Damon was being unusually quiet.

"Damon?" Elena called again, her voice even softer than before.

No reply came, so she tried turning around in his arms.  
Except she tried to no avail, her boyfriend didn't even budge.

"Damon?"

Another sob. This time it could no longer be denied. He was crying and she'd heard. Heard the soft sounds unmistakably slip from between his lips. It had been predictable, in a way, with his lips that close to her ear. He silently cursed himself. And he held her. Tightly.

Elena knew not to push. She knew he hated crying in front of her. A deep breath escaped her lips bit by bit. _No sighing_.

Carefully, she brought her fingers to his, intertwining them where they met below her ribcage. Her thumb tenderly stroked the back of his hand as they stayed connected. This was something she _could_ do.

It ached. Elena's heart ached. She yearned to turn around and hold him, wrap him up in her arms until his cries died down. She could comfort him, she knew she could. And she wanted to. But this was one of those times where what she wanted was not the most important thing. It wasn't her right to decide when Damon needed to allow her in.

He was in pain. He was struggling. Nonetheless: if her not seeing him cry would make it more bearable for him, then that was exactly what would happen.

The fingers of Elena's right hand tentatively unlocked from his and trailed up his upper arms. He was wearing a T-shirt. His skin was bare. Until she tenderly covered it with the palm of her hand, holding onto him. Tightly.

They stayed like that for a while, connected. Damon put his chin on top of her head as he regained control over his breathing.

"I can't bear to ever lose you," he spoke pained. There was no denying that statement any longer.

"You won't," Elena replied wholeheartedly. And she meant it. Wrapped up in his arms, she couldn't think of one statement more true.

_**xXx**__  
"We're setting fire to our insides… for fun.  
Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong."_

**xXx**

It was over two hours later by the time the young couple retreated upstairs. Elena hesitated for a moment as Damon closed his bedroom door.

"Damon," Elenla warned nervously.

"Father is out for the night, mom too, and Care's watching a movie, it's fine," Damon insisted, he allowed himself to fall backwards onto his bed and pulled Elena along as he went. She giggled softly.

His lips reached hers almost hesitantly at first, but as soon as she kissed him back, he lost track of his previous thoughts and reservations. Her fingers tangled in his hair as Damon's trail of kisses went down. The white cotton shirt appeared to be terribly inconvenient so it was discarded to the floor.

Elena's lips found the outer shell of Damon's ear as she unbuttoned his shirt too, it joined the pile in a matter of minutes. It felt undeniably good, having his skin pressed against hers, his warmth directly reaching her. _Clothes were so very overrated._

They kissed and kissed some more, passionately and heatedly. It wasn't like they often had the chance to do so. In those mere seconds: life was perfect. As Damon's tongue traced her lower lip, there was simply no other word in the book that applied.

**xXx**

_"We are the reckless, we are the wild youth,  
Chasing visions of our futures."_

**xXx**

Present day

"I'm sorry," Elena whispered.

"Well, sorry is not always enough," Damon spoke ruefully.

"I never meant to hurt you," Elena managed hoarsely.

"Then you should have _known_ better," Damon replied almost desperately.

"I know… We were never supposed to fall in love. It wasn't right," she mused sadly.

"Nonsense! It was always right! Right until you ruined it!" Damon burst out, raising his voice for the first time that evening.

"Damon, you have no idea what that evening was like for me, how everything came together, tore us apart and ripped us to shreds…" Elena repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

"Then enlighten me. Please do. If you have a version of events that includes you not screwing things up big time, I'm genuinely dying to hear it. The floor's yours!" Damon informed her, irony seeping into his every word.

He had tried. He'd truly tried all night long to keep it together and give her a chance. Yet the memories were all still freshly etched in his brain. He couldn't just dismiss what had happened. And if she thought playing the victim would help her case then she only had herself to blame for his reactions. _She was pushing it._

Elena took a deep breath. "It all started with your father's speech…"

**xXx**

Eleven years ago

The noise in the gala room died down as Senator Salvatore switched on the microphone. Elena was sitting around one of the various round tables, which were clad with expensive linen and decorated with exquisite flowers. Every once in a while, she locked eyes with Damon, who was seated at the table in the middle. Elena was quiet, Damon, on the other hand, was busy convincing Caroline that she could do without her phone for two seconds when his father held his speech.

"You two are cute," Matt whispered next to her, taking in the adorable interaction between his best friend and her boyfriend. Elena kicked him from underneath the table. "Not here," she whispered, suddenly scanning the table to see if anyone had heard.

No one appeared to be listening however, since they were seated among nieces and nephews of the Salvatore's who were busy catching Pokémon on their Game Boys. Matt had been invited by Caroline too, mostly so Elena would have someone to talk to during dinner. Caroline and Damon were to be seated with their family, it was their father's birthday after all.

"Do you think he'll say anything about the rumours?" Matt asked curiously.

"What? That he's being blackmailed into quitting?" Elena demanded sarcastically.

"I thought Damon said he might quit anyhow," Matt insisted.

"The senator doesn't want his son in jail, what other reason would he have to quit?" Elena demanded hushed.

"No clue, I'm just repeating what Damon-"

"Ssshhhh, it's starting," Elena shut him up.

"Family means everything," The Senator's words boomed loud and clear over the tables. "That's all that comes to mind when I take a look at the table in front of me," continued Giuseppe.

"Damon Francis Salvatore, and my lovely Caroline Elisabeth, there is no greater joy in the world, than the extraordinary honour of being your father…" Mister Salvatore mused.

"Is he resigning?" Matt questioned softly.

"I have no idea," Elena mumbled confused. She watched Damon from afar. He looked distressed, fidgeting with his tie. Elena tried remembering his words, he had made her promise that she would stand by his side, that she would not go along with the plan of the campaign managers. "_He couldn't lose her_," he'd stressed. "_He'd rather go to trial than go through everything alone," _he'd insisted.

_Going through what alone? Lif_e? Damon had been so cryptic the night before. Still he'd sounded so certain that Elena had decided to do things his way, regardless of the cost. It was Damon's family after all, perhaps Damon did know best.

In that moment, however, as she watched Damon's obvious struggles, she couldn't help but wonder if they were doing the right thing. Giuseppe could not give up his position because of their feelings for each other. Damon knew that too, _didn't he?_

"Therefore I wanted to talk to you all tonight," Giuseppe ripped Elena out of her reverie.

"I feel this might be-, might be." The senator's composed demeanour was gone in an instant as he suddenly stared into the spotlight that hung on the ceiling. "I think-, it would-"

_What was going on?_Elena glanced anxiously at Caroline and Damon.

"I feel-, I think, I-"

The sentence was never finished as two men stepped onto the stage and escorted the senator to a chair behind the curtain. _What was happening_? A single chair scraping over the floor broke the silence, as Damon rose to his feet. He jumped on top of the stage and rushed backstage. Caroline watched his retreating back in confusion.

xXx

The cold evening air felt utterly refreshing, as Elena stepped onto the balcony in her delicate green cocktail dress. Goosebumps instantly rose on her skin, but she paid no attention to them as she stepped forward until her trembling fingers found the railing.

Damon had been nowhere to be seen during the last half hour and it had Elena more worried by the minute. She was on the verge of tears when she suddenly felt a gloved hand touch her bare shoulder.

"Elena?" It was none other than Damon's mother calling her name.

"Mrs. Salvatore!" Elena all but exclaimed. On various occasions she'd pondered the fact that it was strange how she often called the senator by his first name, while his wife, on the other hand, always insisted on formality.

The older woman eyed the young girl appraisingly and sensed her distress.

"You seem anxious, dear," Mrs. Salvatore noticed, "But you need not worry, Damon and my husband are doing fine," she reassured Elena.

"That's a relief," Elena wanted to comment, but halfway her sentence she was interrupted.

"An anxiety attack, that is what the doctor called it, but I think that surprises neither you, nor me. The number of issues my husband has had to deal with over the last few months has been unbearably high. That is actually one of the things I wanted to discuss with you…"

**xXx**

Twenty minutes later, Elena was seated in a richly furnished office on the second from. She admired the ornaments on one of the cupboards as Damon's mother stirred a cup of tea before presenting it to here. "Here you go, my dear, you seem cold," she spoke.

"Thank you," Elena replied gratefully, taking the cup and bringing it to her lips.

"You love my son, don't you, Elena?" Mrs. Salvatore got straight to the point. "And you mean very much to him, and to my daughter too." The lady in red took a long sip from her chamomile.

"That makes this conversation hard for me, Elena… Because I can see what you do for my children, how you support them and what a great friend you've been. But unfortunately, in lives like ours, those are not the only things that matter."

Elena bit her lips as she felt tears brimming in her eyes. _This conversation is heading nowhere good_, she realized. And the worst part was: Mrs. Salvatore would be right.

"I love to see my son care, love to see the smile you paint upon his lips. Please remember that, Elena, that both my husband and I have truly appreciated your presence in his life. But we can no longer ignore that there are people willing to hurt him very badly. People willing to jail him, if it means more voters for them-"

"I never slept with your son!" The words slipped from Elena's tongue before she even realized it. She brought her fingers to her lips as if that could take it back. It could not. She blushed fiercely.

The room turned utterly silent.

"I assumed as much..." Mrs. Salvatore spoke after a few seconds. "I take it you and my son never engaged in... Well... Improper behaviour. Unfortunately, that won't matter to the press. If the right people shed light on his situation my son's picture will be all over tomorrow's newspapers. His reputation will be destructed along with his father's." She shook her head at the painful thought.

"But Damon does not want for us to split up," Elena tried tentatively. "And he says they can say whatever they like, we will prove them wrong in court when it comes to that," she added.

"Oh dear..." Damon's mother sent her a good-natured smile, but Elena could not miss the patronizing undercurrent in her words. "I would love to live in a world where the truth made a difference, but do you remember Monica Lewinsky? She was being truthful, and tell me: what did that get her?"

Elena had no reply.

"I know you want to protect Damon. You feel torn, because you don't want to be disloyal. I can see how you watch him anxiously. You're frightened that if you do the right thing he might not see it that way. Am I right?" asked Mrs. Salvatore.

Elena nodded timidly.

"Still, you do not take every aspect into account, Elena. This is not just about my son choosing between loving you or perusing a career. This is about his father too. In the end, I don't think my son will ever forgive himself for forcing his father's hand. He might not see it that way today, but eventually as the truth sets in I believe he will..."

"What would you like me to do?" Elena inquired, her voice fragile and small.

"I want you to talk to the press… and let him go. Just like the campaign managers suggested." Mrs. Salvatore informed her ruefully. "It's the only option we have if we want to keep my husband in office at this moment."

"Will I-, will there be consequences?" Elena wondered nervously.

"No. No, my dear. It is of vital importance to both me and my husband that you do not incriminate yourself. And should your actions backfire then we will be at your service," rang a high pitched voice. "Moreover, we plan on supporting you financially should you need counselling. We're both sincerely sorry that this has to happen in such dreadful manner, except we don't see an alternative. There is no other way out."

The first tears threatened to trail down Elena's cheeks as those words sunk in, she choked a sob back. It was happening. It was really happening now. An uncomfortable feeling settled beneath her ribcage as she tried to repress dry heaves. She managed to refrain from making any sound, quietly accepting the handkerchief that was handed to her.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Salvatore uttered uncomfortably. She tenderly placed her hand on the young girl's shoulder as Elena dapped the tears away in silence.

_Sometimes sorry is not enough._

_**xXx**_

_"And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.  
'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone."_

**xXx**

Present day

"Is that the 'big picture' you mentioned in your letter?" demanded Damon. "My Mom takes you aside for a moment and you lose your freaking mind?!"

"Damon-"

"No! You don't get to 'Damon' me! You made me a promise. I was scared as hell and you made a promise. _'Forever and always, 'til kingdom come'_ THAT was how I felt about you and I really thought you felt that way about me too," huffed Damon.

"I did feel that way! You know I loved you, I know you do. But this was never about love, it was about protecting you and your father. It didn't matter what I wanted, I could not be selfish, even if it killed a piece of me..." Elena's voice trailed off.

"Yeah, I think that 'little piece of you' was called _loyalty_, or was it _common decency_. I'm not sure which, you were always better with the drama." He snorted.

"Your mom said-"

"I don't care a rat's ass about what Mom said. You should have come to ME. You should have talked to ME. You should have trusted ME," barked Damon.

"I tried!" Elena exclaimed, her voice a pitch higher than before. "I tried," she repeated a little softer before adding, "but you refused to understand."

Damon angrily put down the cup of chocolate milk. "That's the best one so far!" he huffed sardonically. "God, you choose your words well!" He wove his arms around in grand gesture as he continued, "I don't understand, huh? I was three years older and wiser at the time and it was actually MY family and MY future on the line. Yet you have the audacity to drop by, calmly bringing me chocolate chip cookies and announcing that I was the one who refused to understand? You have got to be kidding me!"

"You weren't there, Damon! When that reporter came to me asking all these different questions, you were nowhere to be found and I was scared out of my mind! I was fifteen, remember? I was fifteen and I loved you and that woman was out for blood. She did not care for the truth, much less your reputation. She wanted to take your father down and she would have dragged you along if she'd had the chance," Elena brought in.

"Have you seen the Hillary-Trump campaign and how dirty that got? Elections are not based on any truths, elections are built on media and scandals. I wasn't about to let your father loose for our stupid little romance! We were kids, Damon!" Elena challenged.

"So what? So you made up some lame ass story about dating me to hurt your father while you were secretly in love with someone else? That wasn't even what the campaign came up with! Tell me, Elena, at what point did that seem like a wise option?" Damon demanded.

"I DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO, Damon. She was suddenly there! She had it out for you, trying to trick me. I panicked! No one had properly informed me about the actual story I was supposed to tell and I was so angry with my father that when one question led to another. Lie piled on lie and suddenly I-..."

"- suddenly you crushed your lips to Matt's to prove a point or what?" Damon demanded.

"You weren't there!"

"I was!"

xXx

Eleven years ago

"Look, Elena... You're name's Elena, right? There is no need to feel ashamed. It was not your fault. You did not ask for this," a sugary voice insisted. The woman with the blond extensions and the fake nails couldn't possibly sound more in-genuine, though apparently she wasn't aware of that herself.

"There are people who could help you. I could help you. If you'd be honest with me, I could take you to the police station right now. _Let me help you_."

Had Elena been in a lighter mood, she would have given the bitch some advice on her bad acting. But it was not the time or the place for that. The blonde was conniving and cunning, Elena had to mind her words.

"He's a public figure. That makes it hard for you. I get that. But everyone deserves justice and so do you. _You matter_, Elena," the reporter spoke overly emotional, barely refraining from holding her hand over her heart as she spoke. _Except: did she even have a heart there? And was she mistaking Elena for a four-year-old?_

Elena was onto the plan. The woman was to come across as concerned, sprouting random advice and being her friend, right until Elena would trust her and insist that whatever she had done with Damon had been completely consensual. That's what the reporter would insist on. She'd nod reassuringly and she'd let her chat about their love, their relationship. Then she would turn it all into a wonderful article which would alert the authorities. The campaign had prepared her for this tactic. _Elena wasn't having it._

Since feigning friendship was the theme, however, she decided that two could play at that game.

"Can I tell you something?" Elena managed slightly nervous. She kept her voice low so no one could overhear them.

"Of course," the reporter replied eagerly.

"Could we go someplace more private..."

**xXx**

Half an hour later, the two women were sitting by the lake. Elena blurted out her story rather hushed, emotional reactions and feigned involuntary shivers right on cue.

"Why did your father cheat on your mother?" the reporter inquired, surprising Elena with her interest in the matter.

"I don't know, all I know was that he always considered Damon a horrible influence. And I knew Damon cared enough about me not to want to hurt my feelings. He wouldn't instantly put me in place if I were to show interest because I'm his sister's only real friend and he loves her. It may look like he's a player sometimes, but in the end he has a golden heart, he'd do anything for Caroline, even let one of her friends down easy..." Elena mused, looking the reporter straight in the eyes.

"I understand," the blonde replied, only sounded halfway convinced, "but why would you suddenly stop? You father hasn't gone back to your mother yet, has he?" [CVD1] the woman questioned. _What was it to her?_

Once again, Elena couldn't place the peculiar interest the reporter had in her family dynamic, but she replied without blinking, "Damon knows I played him and that I fell in love with someone else."

"Is that so? Because I saw how the two of you interacted before lunch. He didn't appear to be upset."

"He only found out just now, next time you see us _'interact'_ you'll understand," Elena replied pained.

It was a lie. Something that was not true yet. But it would have to be soon. There was no longer an alternative. And '_sorry'_, would not be enough.

**xXx**_  
We're setting fire to our insides… for fun.  
Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home._

**xXx**

Present day

"I was there, Elena. I was standing exactly two yards away from you when you looked me in the eyes before your lips touched another man's. You devoured him right in front of me. How's that for loyalty?" Damon questioned. His tone was bitter, though his volume had gone down significantly. This was no longer rage, this was utter disappointment.

Tears sprang into Elena's eyes, she had no words to excuse herself.

"You were _never_ going to let me go," she murmured softly, "You weren't going to give in."

"Well, at least you were right about something..." Damon whispered. He turned his back on her and took in the wall to his left. He couldn't look at her in that moment.

"They were going to destroy your father's career. They'd force a media scandal so he would have no choice but to give up his office. And on top of that: they were going to blame _you_ for statutory rape, Damon. Rape, you know how bad that is? The papers would have loved it. And let's not forget that it was the exact year you were applying for colleges. It was either us, or your future. I don't think you ever fathomed what that truly meant... How much you and your family would have lost. So I did what I had to do, I had to force you to let me go. I had to do the one thing you would define as unforgivable…"

Damon snorted. "Yeay me. Yeay my reputation. Yeay loneliness. Thank you, it was awesome. Did it ever cross your mind that we might have had to talk about it first. Perhaps we should have discussed the matter at hand and argue a little before you unilaterally decided to blow thing up…?"

"I did what I had to do!" Elena cried. "I hated it! I hated every single part of it! And I hated myself! I hated hurting your feelings, I felt like I had died when we broke up. But I thought I was protecting you, I saw no other option…"

"STICKING YOUR TONGUE DOWN SOMEONE ELSES THROAT IS NOT HOW YOU PROTECT THE ONE YOU LOVE!" Damon roared loudly. He couldn't help the words as they slipped from his lips. He just needed her to hear it, once. That part was unforgivable. There was no way around it.

"I'm-, s-, sorry," Elena managed between sobs.

"Well, sorry won't cut it this time," Damon informed her coldly.

**xXx**

Neither of them uttered a single word for the longest time. Elena wasn't even fidgeting, she did not dare to move the first few seconds.

"Had there been any other way I could have gotten you to let me go?" she whispered brokenly, plucking fruitlessly at the red IKEA blanket.

"No." Damon replied slightly calmer than before.

"You would have lost everything…" Elena argued barely above a whisper.

"I did lose everything. Because the only thing I couldn't bear to lose at the time was you…" Damon spoke barely above a whisper. He allowed his eyes to find hers and stared deeply into them. It was only now that Elena recognized a deeper pain. One she hadn't noticed before. _Damon was not just being cheesy, there was much more to his heartbreak._

"Romance, huh? That's what you thought, isn't it? That I had a crush on you and I'd get over it?"

Elena didn't dare to reply.

"You thought wrong." Damon's tone turned bitter. "My father didn't just have an anxiety attack that evening, he had cancer. We all thought he was going to die. That career of his, you were so worried about, mattered very little at that point and I… I never needed Harvard or Yale, or an impeccable reputation for that matter. I was falling apart at the seams, Elena, and all I needed… was you."

As that new piece of information dawned on Elena, her eyes grew wide in utter horror. "No!" She shook her head and blinked, trying to rid her mind of unwelcoming thoughts. _It made no difference_.

"You should have told me," she managed brokenly. "Had I known… I longed for you, Damon. I cried for you, I needed you. It broke me to tear myself away from you, to tear us apart and had I known…" she couldn't finished her sentence.

Slowly, Elena moved her head between her hands. Her elbows were supported by her knees. She imploded. Off all the words in the dictionary, there was not one that fit the scene any better. As the truth sank in and tears fell soundlessly from her eyes, Elena _imploded_.

That's when Damon first gathered that his calculations had been wrong. Elena was never perfect, had never been flawless, but she had never been the villain he'd made her out to be either. The broken girl on his sofa had never acted with the intention of making him come undone. He had been collateral damage, perhaps she'd been too.

It was a shame, such a damn shame, that 'sorry' could not heal either of their wounds.

**xXx**

Damon slowly rose to his feet and Elena eyed him in full-blown panic. _He couldn't kick her out like that._ Except, she'd done the exact same thing to him, let him slip and fall in one of his most vulnerable moments.

"Please," Elena whispered with big, pleading eyes.

"I need a minute," Damon excused himself.

"Don't l-"

"A moment, Elena. You walked away for ten f**king years. All I'm asking for is one moment!" Damon raised his voice as he spoke and she cringed.

_A moment._

**xXx**

_"Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette, a lifeless face that you'll soon forget,  
My eyes are damp from the words you left, ringing in my head, when you broke my chest."_

**xXx**

_Maybe this is what a nervous breakdown feels like_, Damon thought as he sauntered into his bedroom, blindly. He didn't bother to switch on the lights before dropping onto the mattress.

"Aw!" Sophie cried.

"Soph?!"

"Daddy," the little girl sobbed, wrapping his arms around her father. Damon searched for the light switch and as soon as the room was no longer veiled in darkness, he took in his daughter's tear-stained face.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Damon inquired softly, kissing the top of her head as he took her into his lap.

"You were yelling so loudly. And you were fighting. And Elena… she was crying," Sophie blurted out distressed.

"Oh sweetheart." Damon pulled her even closer, arms protectively around her slim body.

"Elena and I, we had a fight a very long time ago. We never really talked about it, that's why you heard me raise my voice. She made me sad back then," Damon explained.

"Then why did you let her visit?" Sophie asked confused.

"I don't know, Soph. Because we had a good day today? Because she was my friend once? Because some days I hope we can go back? Because I thought she could be your friend…" Damon couldn't even properly phrase an answer for himself, let alone for his little girl.

"You know what? I'm going to tell Elena goodnight and come back to bed. You don't have to be alone tonight," Damon promised, knowing his little girl wouldn't be able to fall asleep in her own room after overhearing the argument.

"No!" Sophie protested.

"No?" Damon wondered.

"She's never going to come back again, Daddy. She can't leave!" Sophie told him panicked.

Damon glanced at the bottom drawer of his bedside table where he'd locked her letter up. He was torn. He couldn't ignore the fact that his daughter might be right.

_Forever and always 'til kingdom come?  
or was this where the journey finally ended?_

**xXx**

_"And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one,  
because most of us are bitter over someone."_

_**xXx**_

Who's to blame when a relationship falls apart? Who's responsible for cleaning up the mess?  
And above all: where is that point where you stop trying? There are no right or wrong answers, no magical handbook that tells us what to do. 'We should do what's best for us. We should try and be happy.' Except none of us possess a crystal ball and love is not an exact science. There is no simply calculation for us to make.

Sorry is often not enough.  
And every story has two sides.  
Sometimes love means setting one free.  
Sometimes it doesn't.

Complicated. No?  
We should let it go already.  
Still we yearn for it. Crave it. Need it. Because in the end those complications appear to be worth it. And every time we get swept off our feet, we promise ourselves not to let it slip through our fingers. Because if you're in love… _then you are the lucky one._

**xXx**

"Setting fire to our insides for fun."

**xXx**]


	10. Cross that line

_**xXx**_

_All along  
I thought something would go wrong  
Didn't you?_

_**xXx**_

According to Machiavelli, everyone should look out for themselves. Or rather, everyone does look out for themselves. One should not count on others. Nor should one trust that their behaviour will ever be anything but a mere translation of what they deem to be 'their best interest'. Strength is ratio, emotions only cloud our judgment at best. How does that translate into our day-to-day lives? How does one act rationally?

We should not allow ourselves to be manipulated. It's better to set our boundaries and carve them out in stone. We should take some emotional distance from others, life is all about drawing lines in the sand and trying to ensure that no one crosses them. We should have others fear us, rather than love us. THAT is how we stay protected.

**xXx**

_"She's never going to come back again, Daddy. She can't leave!" Sophie told him panicked._

_Damon glanced at the bottom drawer of his bedside table where he'd locked her letter up. He was torn. He couldn't ignore the fact that his daughter might be right._

"Then what would you like me to do, Sweetheart? I can't just go down there and forget everything that's happened. She did a bad thing, I cannot change that," Damon stated.

"Did she say sorry, Daddy?" Sophie inquired.

"What?" Damon asked confused.

"Elena, when she did that bad thing. Did she say sorry?" Sophie wondered out loud.

"She did, I guess," Damon admitted.

"Well, then the fight is over, right?" Sophie concluded. "Someone does a bad thing, then they apologize and then it's over," she summed up.

"It's not that easy sweetie," Damon stressed.

"How? How do you know when it's over then?" Sophie questioned.

Damon's five-year-old had a point. When an apology was not the line to be crossed from fight to appeasement, then what was? Where did an argument stop, and when would it ever be '_enough'_?

"I have no clue," Damon mused ruefully. "She apologized and I think I can forgive her, but it's still hard to just forget about everything. Do you understand that?"

Sophie, who had been nodding during the first part of her father's explanation, comically altered the direction of her head's back-and-forth movement and was shaking it from left to right now.

Damon brought his right hand up to his forehead, wrinkling the skin there and thinking of a different way to phrase the issue. "Let's see," he started. "Take your Mom for instance…" Sophie watched him wearily, "Your Mom disappeared on us, out of the blue. You were angry about that for a little while and I think we're both still unhappy about it. It was a bad thing for her to do, can we agree on that?" Sophie nodded.

"But if your Mom would suddenly turn up again and apologize to us, I think you would forgive her just because you've missed her so much and you love her. Wouldn't you?" Damon inquired.

"Of course!" Sophie replied.

"In the end however, even if you'd still love Mom and be happy that she's back, I don't think you would forget about the time she left," Damon stated softly. "Before she left, you were never afraid about Mom going away, but if she returns a part of you will always worry about her leaving when she drops you off at school."

Damon wrapped his arms around his little girl and turned her around in his lap so she was facing him. Sophie stared at him with wide and innocent eyes. "We can _forgive_ the people we love, but it takes a long time to _forget_ certain things. Elena left me alone when I was younger and it's hard not to be afraid that she'll leave again," Damon concluded wistfully.

Sophie placed her small fingers on top of Damon's. Despite her young age she was aware that her father was struggling. Little did she know the significance of their shared moment, as Damon uttered the words he hadn't ever admitted out loud before.

"You _have_ Elena," Sophie suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts.

Damon watched her confused, still halfway into his reverie.

"_You have Elena_," Sophie repeated. "We don't have Mom, but Elena is downstairs," Sophie insisted, eyes burning into Damon's.

"Yes. So?" Damon questioned.

"_That's the goal, daddy_," Sophie rolled her eyes, a nice trait she'd picked up from her dearly beloved father. "The goal is that they come back! They leave and we are sad and we hope that they come back. Elena _is_ back," Sophie revealed. "You should be happy!"

A humourless chuckle escaped Damon's lips at his daughter's logic. "She can leave again, you know?" Damon insisted.

"Then it's stupid that you're upstairs and not downstairs!" Sophie replied.

"It's not that simple, Sweetheart," Damon spoke, his tone severely patronizing.

"But when we get mom back, we are not going to spend time just the two of us upstairs until she leaves again, are we?" Sophie blurted out.

It was hard not to notice how Sophie still used 'when' instead of 'if'.

"You're too young to-"

"No, daddy. It's simple. When Elena is here you should be with her before she leaves again. Because when she leaves, then she is gone. And then you don't know when she's going to come back."

Damon watched his little girl as she explained her point of view with vigour. Life was so different seen through her eyes. She was passionate in convincing him of those solutions that were nothing more than perfectly evident to her. Naturally she didn't understand the complexity of all the issues at hand, but could there be some wisdom in the simplified perspective she offered?

Sophie hopped off her father's lap and began pushing him off the bed. "Go on!" she urged. "Go be with Elena!"

"Sweetheart-" Damon started to protest.

"No! Go downstairs, daddy. I'll be good and go to sleep," she promised.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Damon insisted.

"Hmm." Sophie, who had quickly squeezed her limber body underneath the covers, nodded furiously.

Damon rolled his eyes at her before kissing the top of her head. "I'll be checking on you in half an hour Miss, and you'd better be asleep by then. Understood?" He did a feeble attempt of coming across as '_strict'_, but his daughter's giggle proved that the attempt had been in vain. _Happy parenting_.

"Night-night," Damon whispered before walking out of the room.

"Good luck," Sophie whispered back.

**xXx**

"Elena?" Damon called out as he rounded the corner walking into the living room. He didn't spot her on the sofa, so he moved toward the kitchen, swinging the door open in one swift motion. She wasn't there. Damon frowned.

On second thought he opened the door that lead to the hallway. There was no light coming from under the door to the restroom either. _Where could she be? Had she left?_

Anxiously, Damon looked for her coat in the hallway closet. When he didn't spot the long scarlet petticoat at first sight, he rapidly went through all the coat hangers, accidentally dropping some to the floor as he went. Her coat was gone_. She was gone_.

Damn! Damon slammed the closet shut in frustration. _Just his luck_. _He hadn't been upstairs for that long, had he? Why would she pack up and leave without a word? What was the last thing he had said to her again?_

Sauntering into the kitchen, Damon went straight for the liquor cabinet. _A single shot, no more_. That was what drinking had been reduced to ever since he became a single parent. Responsibility was one of the traits he had picked up along the way. Slightly disgruntled he filled his tumbler with water from the tap, before making his way to the sofa.

Whoosh. The cushions of the sofa deflated as a vast amount of air was pushed out all at once under Damon's weight. He closed his eyes for a lingering moment as his current situation dawned on him.

After three minutes he straightened himself up again, leaning forward to clean the side table between the sofas. As he wiped the crumbs of cookies into a bowl with his bare hands, his eyes found a piece of paper that hadn't been there before. _A letter_.

Damon cleaned his right hand using his jeans, before he grabbed hold of the letter. Nervously and greedily, his eyes slid over the words Elena had written down. _There was no point in waiting or savouring it. He had to know._

"_Dear Damon_," was written in neat and elegant handwriting.

_"First of all, I'm sorry for coming over tonight. It was a miscalculation on my part, I never meant to make you uncomfortable. In fact, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for every single one of my actions that caused you pain. That was never my intention. Even though it doesn't change anything, I want you to know that I have always loved you._

_I could tell you one more time that I only did what I did to protect you, but I'm choosing not to do that. You know my side of the story and you know me. You're more than intelligent enough to understand what happened ten years ago and it's your choice__and only your choice__to decide what to do with that information._

_Perhaps I was stupid to act the way I did and maybe it was wrong to come work for you or to visit you tonight, but you of all people should know that everyone has their flaws. It's not our choice to be imperfect, but we cannot help it either. Our flaws are a part of who we are, there is no changing that. Which leads me to a question: during the time when you still felt something for me, who did you love? Did you love the girl you were dating or the image you constructed of her inside of your mind?_

_I was never perfect, Damon. I have always disappointed you. Consistently. Nonetheless a part of me believes that it's only lately that you've started seeing that your ideal version of me and the person I actually am, never matched. I was never your 'princess' to begin with. I was always just Elena._

_I'd like for you to know that I loved you just the way you were. I never needed you to be anything more than yourself and watching you take care of Sophie tonight has only confirmed that to me this evening._

_Many things have happened, we have both been in pain and we have both been hurt. But lately I was not the only one inflicting pain, and perhaps there's something to be said for the fact that I never did so with the single purpose of making your heart ache._You_ are not perfect either, but that has always been irrelevant to me._

_We have tried however. Tried and failed. So this is me letting you go, finally. Consider this my final resignation from the firm, I won't be bothering you anymore. Nevertheless, I wish you the very best in life and I hope you'll find happiness._

_Love,  
Elena"_

Damon blinked in confusion. _The timing was all wrong_. _Hadn't he just decided to take the moments he had with her and relish in them, regardless of the consequences_. The irony of the situation would be hilarious if it weren't so bitter.

So, that was it. Elena was gone already, before he had even figured out how to be around her again. Perhaps his daughter had been right after all. H_e should have taken the opportunity back when it had been presented to him_.

**xXx**

Damon re-entered his bedroom making as little noise as possible in an attempt not to wake Sophie. He held the door, keeping it from slamming closed and carefully guiding it into its frame.

Without a sound he changed clothes in the bathroom, leaving the light switched off. After brushing his teeth with little water he gradually allowed his weight to sink into the mattress. Sophie hadn't stirred. Great.

Damon closed his eyes and tried to slip into a dreamlike state, he was almost there when he felt the covers move. When he opened his eyes, his little girl was leaning on her elbows, eyes fixed on him. "And…?" she inquired wide awake. "How did it go?"

_So much for exaggerated efforts not to wake her._

"We're fine, Soph. It's time to go to sleep now," Damon tried to shut her up.

"Did you two hug?" Sophie wondered out loud. "Did you kiss her cheek before she left?"

A sigh came from deep within Damon. "She had already left when I arrived downstairs. But it's better this way, Sophie. We're going to be just fine on our own," Damon promised, arguably in an attempt to convince himself. He tucked his little girl in and closed his eyes again.

Sophie wasn't having it though. "No!" she protested firmly. "You should go after her," she decided.

Damon shook his head. "Life is not a romantic comedy, sweetheart. Elena's gone and we're still here. Like I said before: perhaps it's better this way."

"No. You have to go and find her, like they do in the movies!" Sophie insisted, obviously not realizing that romantic comedies were in fact movies.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Life is not a movie."

"It would be more fun if it was." Sophie crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him in defiance.

"Well, we can't always get what we want…" Damon drew.

"Nope. But today we can," Sophie stressed. "Ric knows where Elena lives."

Damon didn't reply and Sophie leaned over him to grab his phone.

"Sophie, what are you doing?" Damon demanded, his tone carrying a warning undercurrent.

"I'm calling Uncle Ric. It's stupid not to ask him," Sophie explained.

"I already know where Elena lives, but it doesn't matter. I can't take you there with me and I'm definitely not leaving you home alone," Damon protested.

"Then we call Uncle Ric and ask him if I can sleep over. I can explain it to him if you don't want to do it yourself…" Sophie suggested.

Damon snickered at the seriousness in his daughter's expression. If the situation weren't so complex it would be hilarious: a five-year-old running her father's dating life. _Did Sophie even realize that her father couldn't date both Elena and her mother? Actions had consequences and the path she was sending him on didn't particularly favour Katherine._

**xXx**

Over an hour later, Damon found himself driving through the night. He's wasn't even sure yet if he would eventually wind up on Elena's doorstep, but apparently both his best friend and his daughter considered it worth a shot.

The red numbers on his dashboard indicated that it was twelve forty-two in the morning, far too late. Why did everyone deem this the best approach?

Ric had been over the moon as soon as he'd received the phone call. According to him it was 'about time' for a grand gesture. Still, Damon didn't feel up for any kind of grand gesture. On the other hand he also realized that his halfway-in, halfway-out approach was selling him short.

There was no such thing as 'half-trusting' someone, or 'half-bonding', giving half of yourself, but not all. One could not be halfway loyal or halfway faithful, there was either a genuine attempt at friendship or none at all.

Furthermore, Damon was tired. He was tired of thinking and considering all options, tired of being afraid. _What was the worst thing that could happen, that she'd leave him again?_ It would shake him and it would burn, but then again, what was the point? _If she left that particular moment, wouldn't he be hurting anyhow?_ If Damon was being truly honest with himself, he had to admit that she had regained that power over him the moment she had returned.

From the very second she had entered his life again it had been self-evident: it would sting if she'd leave again, regardless of his attachment to her. What was the point in protecting himself in order to keep from ever missing her again when he'd already crossed that line?

He currently had all of the risks and none opportunities. It was time to make a change.

**xXx**

_For you I'd break these walls and choose to fall  
I'm gonna cross that line. For you. Tonight._

**xXx**

_Katherine_. Her face briefly flashed in front of Damon's eyes as he neared Elena's apartment. Sooner then he'd expected, there was a choice to be made. Katherine or Elena. So alike and yet so different in more ways than one.

If he'd allow himself to let Elena in again, that would signify locking Katherine out. There was no tip-toeing around the fact that there was no room for both women in his life. It was a big decision, one he'd almost made unconsciously, in the heat of the moment. He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't.

_Sophie's mother or his first love_. Suddenly there wasn't much time to ponder, six more blocks and he'd be arriving at the Gilbert Apartment. He pulled over for a moment, parking his car in front of an abandoned park.

_Christ_. Suddenly it dawned on him._  
This was one hell of a decision_. His actions tonight would change _everything_ and turn his daughter's world upside down.

In his current life, there was no longer any room for one-night stands. If he'd give himself to Elena tonight, then things were bound to change and Katherine would no longer have a family to come home to. _Isn't it funny how one single action in one single night can set things in motion for years to come?_

Ironic, how the current choice was one between two women who had once left him.  
Ironic how Damon had once chosen Katherine, in the absence of Elena, and was about to do the exact opposite now.

Was he betraying Katherine if he knocked on Elena's door? Did it still count as cheating if she was the one who left him? Was it morally despicable if he dared to dream about a future with Elena?

"_To dream about a future with Elena_?" REWIND. _The same Elena he'd left alone two and a half hours earlier_. It's so peculiar how life changes on us in the blink of an eye. _How did he end up by the side of the road again?_

Katherine or Elena.  
_Elena or Katherine_.

The love of his life, or Sophie's mom. _Sophie's mom, was there even a chance of competing with a notion like that? Six years of marriage versus a fleeting teenage fling._

_It was never meant to be fleeting,_ Damon caught himself thinking. If it hadn't been for his mother's controlling nature and manipulations, Elena would have never let him go_._ Damon knew that all too well.

What if things had been different, what if his mother had never spoken to Elena? _Could it be that they would have never broken up in the first place. Perhaps they'd be married and she'd been the one to wrap her arms around his torso when he came home at night. Perhaps she could have been there for him and he for her, a healthy marriage would have definitely been in the cards. Perhaps she could have been Sophie's mother and Sophie would have had two parents who'd do anything for her. Perhaps._

_STOP IT_, Damon commanded his brain.

It had to stop. He was not allowed to think that way and he would not. Sophie would not be Sophie without Katherine being her biological mother and Damon loved his little girl with his whole his heart. Furthermore, Sophie was Katherine's. Maybe that was a sign that he needed to choose Katherine.

Or maybe it didn't matter and Elena would be a much better parent to his little girl than his wife could ever be. Or perhaps not dating Elena would be taking an opportunity to be cared for away from his daughter. Or maybe _that_ was simply the most convenient way of framing the situation…

Damon was at a loss. He banged his head hard against the back of his seat. His mind had stopped making sense. But this was not the right time. He _had to_ choose, tonight wasn't optional. Driving back would have its consequence and so would moving forward. In very few seconds he'd be deciding the course of his immediate future.

_Think_, he urged himself. _Now or never. Now or… never._

**xXx**

Damon made his way to the right floor in the apartment building taking two steps at a time. It was late, very late and he saw absolutely no reason to arrive any later then strictly necessary. He was slightly high on adrenaline from sneaking inside the building unnoticed, the badge protection system appeared to be out of service, not that he was complaining.

Elena.

Elena had been the answer all along.

As his father had once told him: "When your head cannot solve the issue, perhaps it's a matter more suited for your heart." It was, and contrary to his head, his heart was not conflicted at all.

_What is she wasn't home? What if he was too late? What if Elena had made up her mind and he'd be walking into a wall of rejection._

That was not an option. It was something his heart could not bear in that moment. If she'd turn him down, a part of him would break. Would she?

_There was only one way to find out…_

Damon knocked on the door to his left. Once. Twice. A third time. There was no response and the doorknob didn't budge. He knocked harder.

"Coming," Elena murmured half-dazed from the other side of the door.

When she appeared in the doorframe about a minute later, she was dressed in nothing but a scarlet robe. Damon had been looking down however, so the first thing he noticed were her bare feet. She appeared to have come right out of bed. _Focus_! Damon tried to keep his eyes from raking over her body. It was hard, but he managed. So without any lingering stares he caught her eyes.

"D-, Damon," Elena uttered surprised. She sounded tired, her voice was small.

It was only now that Damon noticed the redness around her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping, she'd been crying. Many tears. His tears. It made him want to comfort her, to reach out to her. But he couldn't. Not just because of the fact that she was barely clad and it would send the wrong signal regarding his intentions, but also because it would be too abrupt, too unexpected. He wouldn't be surprised if his mood swings were making Elena's head spin by now. He couldn't even explain what was happening himself, it was as much of an emotional rollercoaster for him as it was for her.

As Elena tried to make sense of the situation, various emotions flashed by in the blink of an eye. There was confusion, disbelief and a fleeting moment of relief, quickly followed by fear. Damon understood. She had to be wondering what he was doing on her doorstep. God, he hoped that she'd gather that he wasn't there for a one-night stand.

Damon tried to convey the things he was feeling, but he lacked the words to do so. In the end all he did was watch her with the most comforting expression he could muster, while she did the exact same thing.

The tension in the hallway was almost tangible, adrenaline was coursing both of their bodies. As Elena made no move to step aside or slam the door shut, Damon took a small step forward and closed the distance. They were close, and even closer, and as Elena closed her eyes, Damon tilted his forehead so it touched hers. Gently.

They simply stood like that for a while, winding down, merely touching. The tension rolled off Elena's body in waves, causing her to shiver. She had no clue what was happening and contrary to Damon, she did not instantly relax. There was no passionate make-out session right that second, neither did they instantly slip into a joyful bliss. Real life was not like the movies. After all that happened it took Elena a few seconds for her to overcome her disbelief. _How could the moment possibly be real?_

"Shhhh," Damon soothed her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

That was the moment it truly dawned on Elena.  
Somehow they had crossed the line.

**xXx**

According to Machiavelli, everyone should look out for themselves. We should have others fear us, rather than love us. THAT is how we stay protected.

Have you ever heard of Machiavelli's satisfying relationships? About the otherworldly bond between him and his love that gave meaning to his life in his darkest hour? No? Well, neither have I.

Rationalism isn't everything.

_**xXx**_

_The sun is down  
I thought you'd be gone by now  
Didn't you?_

**xXx**


	11. How to save a life

**xXx**

Scholars of economics, as well as those of social sciences describe the phenomenon in which the set of decisions one faces for any given circumstance, is limited by the decisions one has made in the past, even though past circumstances may no longer be relevant. They call this path-dependency.

With those textbook words, the scholar means that once you push the ball and it starts rolling: there is no way back. Make the wrong decision and the effect will be irreversible, following you around like a dark cloud as it sets a chain of events in motion.

Whether your country joined the wrong international organization, your wonderful child decided to cut its own hair, or you yourself had a lapse in judgment in which you stuck your tongue down the wrong throat: good luck pushing the ball back up that hill. Path dependency is a bitch…

**xXx**

_"A moment, Elena. You walked away for ten f**king years. All I'm asking for is one moment!" Damon raised his voice as he spoke and Elena cringed visibly._

_A moment._

It took Damon seven long strides to make his way up the stairs and then he was gone. His voice, his smell, his piercing blue eyes, they were all gone, leaving Elena alone with her thoughts. She rearranged herself on the sofa, shifting a bit from left to right and trying to keep herself composed since she didn't know when Damon would return. The fabric underneath her felt stiff and cold. Apart from that it was also black, a colour she never would have chosen.

This was not _her_ living room and it was not _her_ home. As she looked around, glancing at pictures, paintings and modern decorations, the fact that she was not a part of her surroundings became all the more apparent. And coffee. Somehow coffee appeared to be a theme around the house. Coffee-coloured wallpapers, a poster of a steaming cup, Nespresso capsules neatly lined up in the open cabinet. Back when they had dated, Damon had never even liked coffee. _Damon had changed_.

"_You were yelling so loudly. And you were fighting. And Elena… she was crying_." Elena couldn't help but overhear the little girl as she loudly explained to her father why she hadn't fallen asleep yet. She instantly felt guilty, not just for listening in but for disrupting the peace and quiet.

Sophie and Damon were a family. They had their own rituals and habits… Elena looked down at her knees and swiped away some crumbs of the cookie she'd eaten. She wasn't a part of their routine, she felt like an intruder. She glanced at the cookies on the table and pondered the reason why she'd visited.

_Damon_. Elena had felt the need to try and tell him one last time that her actions in the past had been no more than a misguided attempt to keep him from harm. She needed him to know that she too, had suffered when they'd broken up. Countless nights she had cried herself to sleep missing the one boy she'd ever loved. He had to know that she'd always cared about him… and never stopped.

Yet when Elena heard the little girl sob upstairs, her words unintelligible now, it dawned on her how insignificant her own desires were in that moment. 'She needed Damon to know that she was sorry about what happened _eleven_ _years ago_; how selfish, Elena thought. How ignorant of her to disregard the fact that all the actions that would affect Damon, would also include his young daughter.

The five year old who had just lost her mother wasn't asking for another disruption in her young life. She clearly didn't need any more big changes to process, nor did she need women coming and going in her father's life. She didn't need Damon any more distressed or conflicted. All the family needed was to be left alone.

Life was all about priorities and Elena's window of opportunity had passed. Once Damon had become a parent, the world had started to revolve around Sophie. _Rightfully so_, Elena pondered. Yet that did mean that it was time for her to say goodbye.

She waited a little while longer for Damon's return, but when he didn't appear to be coming down again, she took a piece of paper from her purse and began to write. If Damon couldn't figure out how to feel about her, than she would have to make the decision for the both of them. It was unfair to keep up the push and pull, especially since there was a child involved. Elena was growing more fond of Sophie by the minute, for just a second she had even considered what it must be like to become a part of the adorable girl's life. But that would never work, not if Damon couldn't trust her anymore.

"_So this is me letting you go, finally… Nevertheless, I wish you the very best in life and I hope you'll find happiness._

_Love,  
Elena"_

_Elena silently put the pen down and read the words again and once more. So this is me letting you go, the words felt so foreign although they were written by her own hand. Finally. Elena's lip trembled slightly as she zoomed in on the world. Finally… As if her letting him go was meant to be… As if she had never wished to be his rock, the one to hold him, cherish him and make him smile, forever and always 'til kingdom come._

_Finally. As if everything they had been through was merely a long detour designed to lead them to that final point where one of them realized that they were bad for each other._

_"I wish you the very best in life and I hope you'll find happiness." She wasn't a part of that happiness, she couldn't be. It wasn't written in the stars so she was out of luck, awkwardly searching for her red petticoat before stumbling into the dark night._

_"Life is not a movie," the wind vaguely whispered, as it carried an echo of Damon's words to the front porch underneath his open bedroom window. Life was not a movie indeed._

**_xXx_**

Elena fled. Of all possible words to describe what happened next, fleeing was by far the most accurate as Elena rushed inside her car. Suddenly she couldn't get away fast enough. One turn, two turns, six more miles and she-, she barely saw the red light causing her breaks to squeak loudly as the car skidded to a stop. It was time for a break and yet it wasn't, Elena briskly pushed the unwanted thoughts aside. She didn't feel like stopping because she didn't feel like thinking, all she wanted was to go home and sleep. The traffic didn't agree with her and forty seconds later she stood still in front of yet another red light. As she was forced to stand still, her mind involuntarily raced through long lost memories of Damon's Camaro, of how he would lazily steer his Chevy with one hand while keeping the other one on her tight.

_Warmth. Love. Excitement_. Those feelings were all gone now and they weren't coming back.

_Sickness_. All of a sudden, Elena felt sick to her stomach and as the light turned green she quickly parked the car to step outside. Clean air, a fresh start, yet all Elena did was heave, crouched on her knees between wet grass. Her chest constricted painfully as she wiped at her mouth. Somehow that was the moment where everything came crashing down. She felt small and insignificant. _She felt fifteen again…_

Eleven year ago

"_Elena_…" Matt's voice had once boomed through the woods, now it was no more than a distant whisper as she got further and further away from the crowd. "_Elena_…" She didn't stop. She never even considered stopping, all she wanted to do was disappear. Disappear into the night, for her image to dissolve in between the green or the darkness. Perhaps she simply wanted to vanish from the Earth, disappear into thin air. Gone.

With only two hours of sleep and a freshly aching heart threatening to tear her apart from the inside out, Elena simply wanted everything to stop, fall off the edge of the earth. Her hand slipped inside the top of her dress and she found the yellow pill Lockwood had slipped her earlier. _Drugs_, she was sure of it. She brought it closer to inspect it, holding it up in the moonlight, but then she threw it away, far into the distance. It wouldn't fix anything, it would only make things worse.

As she swung her arm, she lost balance on her high heels, and stumbled forward into the dirt. The dress she was wearing didn't allow much movement though, so as she hit the ground the stitches ripped. She was a mess, she had to go back and ask Caroline for a change of clothes.

Her heals weren't broken, still Elena slipped them off. She couldn't seem to move forward in them now her ripped dress allowed for bigger strides. As she made her way back to the woods, she looked anything but elegant. She didn't care who saw. Or did she?

Damon. His incredulous expression flashed in front of her eyes again. She'd seen his piercing lapis lazuli eyes turn dark as he saw her putting on a show for the reporter. The devastation etched across his features had been unlike any other kind of disappointment she'd ever seen on anyone.

Doubt started to plant its seeds underneath her chocolate curls. Damon was in pain. Could anything be worth it if the result was hurting Damon? Her fifteen-year-old self didn't think so and on second thought she hurried back to the crowd.

Her first instinct was to call Caroline. Her friend appeared to dodge her call however. Staring at the bright screen, she heard jogging footsteps approaching.

"Elena, there you are!" Matt called as he reached her. "What's going on?" he asked concerned upon taking in her dishevelled appearance.

"I'm sorry, it's a long story. I have to talk to Damon," Elena insisted.

"Oh no, you are staying as far away from Damon as possible, he just threw a chair through the window of the greenhouse. Besides, he's out of reach anyhow. His mother just send him home with his uncle. I have a feeling he won't be coming back for the weekend… What were you thinking, Elena? What's going on?" Matt questioned sternly.

"I-, I-, I-, there were these reporters… and the pictures… they were going to write an article to force his father into giving up the office… because I'm fifteen and they'd make it look as if he was… This was not the solution. I panicked. I was scared he'd be rejected from Harvard. His father's gone there, it meant so much to him and I-. _What did I do_?" Elena was trembling, her words no longer making sense to Matt. He didn't even know about Elena's relationship with their friend's brother. All the while Elena seemed to sink further and further into a trancelike state, with a quivering lip and crazy eyes.

Matt watched anxiously as his best friend rubbed her hands compulsively over her arms. Her movements were systematic and neurotic. He was frightened she'd break her own skin. The sixteen-year-old boy glanced from left to right in distress, looking for anyone who was paying attention. Why didn't anyone notice the teenager with the ripped dress? Where were the adults when you needed them?

_Right, Misses Salvatore had guided the visitors inside so no one would spot the broken window in the back of the garden._ Only the smokers remained around the front porch, but none of them were looking their way.

Matt took Elena by the hand, effectively stopping her from rubbing her reddish skin. "Let's get you home," he muttered, guiding her to his father's car.

**xXx**

_Between the lines of fear and blame  
You begin to wonder why you came_

**xXx**

The car drove onto the Gilbert driveway. Elena's body moved slightly back and forth as the Matt pushed the breaks. She didn't open her door.

"Elena?" Matt asked.

All of a sudden the wheels in Elena's head appeared to have started to turn again.

"Yes," she replied with a definitive expression, eying him. She blinked. She had thought hard during the drive home and there was only one solution: she had to alert Damon.

"So…" Matt drew.

"I'm sorry," Elena started. "I know I asked you first and you didn't object to the kiss, but I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"You think?" Matt inquired, raising his eyebrow. "You've been acting weird all night. Why is Damon so upset? What were you doing in those woods?" he strung together the first few questions that came to mind.

"Tomorrow," Elena replied. "I'll explain it all tomorrow. But now I really have to call Damon and have Mom drive me there because he doesn't know what's going on either and if I don't… I just really have to act quickly now," Elena rushed out. She swiftly kissed Matt's cheek and stepped out of the car.

"Thanks for taking me home, I promise I'll call!" she ensured him.

Her mood swings were making Matt's head spin. Then again, he was happy that she appeared to have changed into a less vegetative state. She'd promised to tell him everything the next day. _He could give her that much time, couldn't he?_

He watched his best friend's retreating back in his rear-view window. _That better be one hell of an explanation._

**xXx**

Slipping off her dress in the bathroom, Elena dialled Damon's number for the fourth time already. Her call was denied, again. She tried Caroline once more, hoping for better luck there. Her best friend wasn't picking up either.

_Uncle_, she remembered. Matt had said Damon's uncle had taken him home. It had to be Mason Lockwood, his mother's brother. She had to go there, to explain to Damon what happened. Hastily she slipped into some pants and a top, skipping steps as she rushed downstairs. She was fifteen, however, not yet old enough to drive, so she quickly rounded the corner to the hallway, in search of her parents.

The living room was empty, so was the kitchen. _Weird_, Elena thought as she scanned the ground floor. It wasn't until she reached the staircase again that she heard the yelling.

"You don't even know what loyalty is!" her mother exclaimed emotionally. It was quiet for a moment. With eyes wide open, Elena snuck back up the stairs. What was going on?

"I never loved her like I loved you," Grayson retorted weakly.

"And apparently you never loved me enough to stay faithful. So I don't even want to consider where that leaves her!" Miranda yelled back. She threw the door to the hallway open and saw Elena's befuddled expression on top of the stairs.

"Good," Miranda spoke, "you're dressed. We're sleeping at grandma's tonight[CVD1] ," she announced curtly, dragging Elena along by the arm as she went.

**xXx**

It was three days later by the time Elena finally got to Damon. She had been forced to spend the weekend at her grandparent's house and Damon had systematically refused to answer her calls. It was Monday. Elena settled down on the wall at the edge of the Salvatore property, waiting for Damon to get back from school.

The past few days had rushed by in a painful blur and in many ways her time on the brick wall felt like the first moment she truly had to herself.

At home, she'd gone through some desperate attempts to comfort her mother, but the warm and all-knowing woman who'd raised her was no more than a shadow of herself as she appeared either stoic or inconsolable, depending on the time of day. They shared the convertible sofa in the middle of the living room, making it impossible for either of them to flee each other's tears.

Elena had stepped outside only once during the weekend, urgently in need of escaping the four confining wall of her grandma's little home in the woods. The thunderstorm that was wreaking havoc on the trees drenched her in a matter of seconds. The weather had been horrible ever since Friday night. Elena had hugged her knees on the porch for seven minutes, her tears mixing with the rain. Then she had pulled herself together to make them all dinner. It had been a demanding weekend.

It remained dry outside as Elena paced the length of the Salvatore driveway. She was nervous. Caroline had refused to speak to her in school and Damon had avoided her like the plague. Elena had been on the brink of tears every time she'd seen either of them. She loved Damon and did so with whole her heart. She admired his strength and wisdom and practically worshipped the ground he walked on.

For the last four months she'd been the one to be wrapped up in his arms, or hold him while he told her about his family. She'd given him her heart, a heart that still skipped a beat whenever he was near. But he paid no attention to her because in the heat of the moment she had made a decision to protect his future, unfortunately Damon didn't see it that way.

He failed to see how it tore her apart to be missing him, failed to see the devastated look on her face when her father had dropped her off at school that morning. She had done the wrong thing and he was punishing her. But never once had it occurred to him that they might have felt the exact same way about one another and their pain was eating Elena alive too.

"Elena?"

Elena jumped as a stern voice resounded from behind her. _Mrs. Salvatore_.

She turned around quickly and eyed the grown woman like a deer caught in headlights.

"The gardener altered me that we had a visitor, I already assumed it was you," she mused.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to speak to-"

"Damon is fine. You shouldn't worry about him. He's doing a little better every day and since the noise of the party covered his little _stunt_ on Friday, we have nothing to worry about regarding the press for now. You did a terrific job, Elena," Mrs. Salvatore congratulated her formally.

"I miss him," Elena stammered shyly.

"I understand," Mrs. Salvatore replied. "but you did was what's best for him. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the ones we love..." he voice trailed off. "Besides, Damon received his acceptance letter to Harvard, he'll be leaving for Cambridge shortly. The two of you would have parted ways in a few weeks anyhow, perhaps it's better this way…"

"I don't want him to think I gave up!" Elena dared to protest. "And Caroline-, Caroline won't speak to me…"

"Caroline will be transferred to a school closer to my husband's office for the time being. That will be more practical with Damon in college. I'm sure the both of them will contact you in a few days Elena, they just need time to process what has happened," Mrs. Salvatore assured her.

Elena stared at the ground, searching for words. Before Mrs. Salvatore had interrupted her there had been a million things she'd wanted to say, yet now she couldn't remember any of them. Under the scrutiny of the senator's wife she found it difficult to find the words to express what she wanted and needed.

"I-, I wrote a letter for both of them[CVD2] ," Elena suddenly recalled. "Would you-, could you give it to them?" Elena asked tentatively.

"Of course, Dear," Damon's mother promised, as the young girl in front of her fished two envelopes out of her backpack.

Elena handed them over nervously, fidgeting with her zipper unsure of what was next.

"Well, it was nice to see you, Elena. I wish you all the best. Thank you for visiting," the woman in front of her dismissed her, eying her meaningfully.

Slightly bewildered by how everything had went down, Elena bowed her head and whispered a quiet goodbye.

"And Elena?" Mrs. Salvatore called**.**

"Yes?"

"Thank you for protecting my family…"

Elena nodded and turned around, not noticing how her letters disappeared inside the deep pockets of Mrs. Salvatore's coat, never to be read. _Naive_.

**xXx**

_Try to slip past the defense  
Without granting innocence_

**xXx**

Present Day

The bed squeaked as Elena tossed and turned underneath the covers. Her eyes were red from all the crying and her head ached almost as much as her heart did. Even after all those years she still failed to wrap her head around how she and Damon had ever been torn apart.

They were both warm and loving people. They were intelligent, kind and successful in their professional lives. But above all: they were sole mates. There had been no need for a thousand years to establish that they understood one another like no one else did. They had it figured out. T_hey'd had it figured out eleven years ago already._

And to think that one gush of wind had been enough to start the chain reaction causing all the dominos to fall… It made her life feel so insignificant. If one mistake at 15 was enough to be dismissed forever, to be labelled 'unreliable' or 'unredeemable', then what were those other 65 years for? What was the use?

There was a soft knock on the door to Elena's apartment. Once. Twice. A third time. Elena switched on the light of her bedside table, confused. She wasn't expecting any visitors and she hadn't pressed the button for the main door to open either. Whoever was at her door knocked harder.

"Coming," Elena murmured half-dazed from the other side of the door.

She almost closed the door again when she saw none other than Damon standing in the hallway. It took her a second to realize that she was, indeed, awake.

"D-, Damon," Elena uttered surprised. She sounded tired, her voice was small.

It was only now that Damon noticed the redness around her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping, she'd been crying. Many tears. His tears. It made him want to comfort her, to reach out to her. But he couldn't. Not just because of the fact that she was barely clad and it would send the wrong signal regarding his intentions, but also because it would be too abrupt, too unexpected. He wouldn't be surprised if his mood swings were making Elena's head spin by now. He couldn't even explain what was happening himself, it was as much of an emotional rollercoaster for him as it was for her.

As Elena tried to make sense of the situation, various emotions flashed by in the blink of an eye. There was confusion, disbelief and a fleeting moment of relief, quickly followed by fear. With aggravated effort, she forced her mind to start working again, but she came up blank, trying to figure out why Damon would visit her in the middle of the night. _Where was Sophie?_

The tension in the hallway was almost tangible, adrenaline was coursing their both of their bodies. As Elena made no move to step aside or slam the door shut, Damon took a small step forward and closed the distance. They were close, and even closer, and as Elena closed her eyes, Damon tilted his forehead so it touched hers. Gently.

Elena's brain ran a short circuit. She couldn't make sense of anything anymore. All she could do was focus on her breathing as they simply stood like that for a while, winding down, merely touching. The tension rolled off Elena's body in waves, causing her to shiver. She had no clue what was happening and contrary to Damon, she did not instantly relax.

Her hands trembled by the side of her body and she didn't know what to feel or how to act. Part of her wanted nothing more than to let it all go, yet another part of her refused to trust what her senses were telling her.

"Shhhh," Damon soothed her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

She opened her eyes, staring into his, seeking the silent confirmation that this was not some cruel joke.

"I'm here," Damon whispered, swiping his thumb across her cheek the way he used to when they were younger.

The next moment Elena wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close while hiding away in his arms. "I'm s-, sorry," Elena whispered.

"I know…" Damon whispered back. "and it's been a while since you were fifteen, at some point we have to stop paying the price."

He rubbed soothing circles on her back, allowing the words to sink in. "I've missed you…" Damon told her softly.

Neither of them moved for another long moment. It was Damon who broke contact first, leaning away slightly to read her expression. There she was, the girl he'd vowed to love forever, in his arms… _Why had that taken so long?_

"We missed out on so much… I want to know how you've been all these years," Damon spoke, eying her meaningfully. The words were true, he did want to know about her life.

"It's been ages since we really talked, can I come in?" he asked the question that would burn on his tongue whenever he'd dream of her. _Simple. Easy. Why had that taken so long. How stubborn had he been, not to see that there had always been an option apart from tormenting them both._

Elena eyed him in wonder, still not completely up to speed with the new plan. "Sure," she replied tentatively. She stepped aside so he could enter.

"Coffee?" she questioned.

"Bah! No! Who drinks coffee?" Elena could feel him roll his eyes at her from behind. _No coffee then_, she noted. Perhaps he hadn't changed _that_ much.

**xXx**

Once you push the ball and it starts rolling: there is no way back. It doesn't take much thought, or even any wrong intentions. Sometimes that chain-reaction has started already long before you realized what was happening and you fail to notice it until you're sitting there all lost and broken wondering where you went wrong.

Perhaps it never even dawned on you what the exact results of your actions would be. Perhaps you thought you were strong enough, thought you would not crush under their weight. Maybe you were always dedicated, honest, supportive, intelligent, and thought that the million seconds in life you choose right, would outweigh the one second you choose wrong…

Guess not. But that doesn't mean that there's no hope. "The difficult option is nevertheless an option." And sometimes, if we're lucky time and goodwill grant us new opportunities.


	12. Have a little faith in me 20

**xXx**

**xXx**

In 2003, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was released. To any young mind reading those books, the magical world described in the series sounded very attractive. _If only humans could enrol in Hogwarts_. One of the distinctive features in the fifth book was the 'Room of Requirement', a room transforming into whatever one needed it to be. It could be a place to sleep, a place to hide or a place where you could safely leave anything behind without anyone ever finding it.

Even twelve years later and more mature, I think we could still do with a place like in our lives.

**xXx**

"Would you euhm-, would you like me to put my shoes aside somewhere?" Damon questioned as he entered the apartment. He took in the small home with genuine curiosity, it was an inviting place to be. In the middle of the living room stood a large sofa with pillows and a fluffy blanket.

The apartment was very clean and organized, yet warm and comfortable at the same time. It looked like it was taken straight out of the IKEA winter catalogue.

"Don't bother," Elena replied. "I'm cleaning the floor tomorrow anyhow."

"But it's raining outside and my shoes are very muddy. I don't think that will work too well with the laminate flooring," Damon remarked.

He had a point. "Fine, just put them underneath the coat stand then. I'm going to change into something more… appropriate," Elena informed him. "I'll be back in a minute," she dismissed herself, clutching the two ends of her rope tightly together. She obviously hadn't expected any visitors after 11 PM.

"Take your time," Damon answered reflexively. _He_ was the one disrupting _her_ evening now after all, he hoped it didn't make her feel too uncomfortable to have him there. Then again, she'd stopped by earlier herself, now they were even.

As Elena disappeared behind a door on the left, Damon glanced over the interior and the decorations. A small smile played across his lips at how familiar it felt, the champagne and chocolate coloured walls, the large poster of a lily in the back. This was a place where he could rest his mind and be at ease, soon enough he found himself in the couch.

The cushions didn't allow for one to sit up with a composed figure, instead they enveloped your back, inviting you to sink into them. They were so different from the cold, black leather sofa Katherine had selected for their own home. Taking in the picture frames and the cupboard, it felt nice to see how Elena had opted for two simply chocolate-coloured candles instead of a million images of coffee cups. Damon was quite sick of seeing those everywhere he looked.

He wondered why he hadn't taken them down yet. The more he came to think of it, there were hardly any decoration in his own living room he truly appreciated, or had chosen himself for that matter. Instead he'd allowed Katherine to pick the design, wanting her to feel at home in their place. It was only now, in a different environment, that Damon saw how much of himself he'd willingly given up in the process.

When Elena re-entered the room a few minutes later, she noticed how Damon had taken her book from the coffee table. "It's a great story, you should read it sometime," she commented, walking over to the kitchen to arrange some drinks. "Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?" she questioned.

"Yes please," Damon replied, "And I already have. It's a beautiful story indeed," he added, putting 'The Shadow of the Wind' down again. Carolos Ruiz Zafón had always been one of his favourite writers. "Speaking of epic literature, have you read _The Little Prince_ in the meantime?" Damon informed, it was the last book he ever bought her. _Ten years ago that was, so chances were she had indeed found some time._

"I have," Elena told him with a warm smile. "It was truly wonderful," she told him, handing him his cup before she nestled comfortably between the pillows on the other side of the sofa.

"I'm reading it to Sophie these days, I think she's far too young to understand any of it yet, but she does have a good time with how funny and strange it all sounds."

Elena grinned, sipping from her cup. "By the way, if you want some music, the remote is right there on your right," she informed Damon. She didn't want the room to turn silent out of fear it might still be uncomfortable at some point, although she had to admit that they both appeared to be surprisingly at ease around one another. Things were changing for the better, it seemed that way at least.

_Square one_by Coldplay started playing as Damon pushed the right button. '_You're in control, is there anything you wanna know,' _Chris Martin sang. Damon turned the volume down bit by bit, until the music disappeared into the background.

_Books, chocolate milk and Coldplay_, Damon summed up in the back of his mind. Was that really what he came to find at Elena's in the dead of night? He tried to think back of how they got to that point but he came up blank, one thing had simply led to another and now he was there, drinking hot chocolate on her sofa.

What else was there to do? _Another round of arguments_? Damon didn't think so, remembering how fragile and anxious Elena had felt in his arms just ten minutes earlier. It hadn't brought him any joy to render her frightened or insecure, instead he'd felt sorry as it dawned on him that he'd appeared to have lost that instant faith she used to have in him.

He'd said his piece already and she'd written down hers, his decision to come had been made and he had known there was no half-way option available. It would kill them both. So there he was, trying, only the trying was going surprisingly well, natural, effortless. Almost ironic, how a concept like '_trying'_ had actually led to them being _themselves_ around each other for once. The most challenging masks to wear, were often one's true self.

"You have a great apartment," he commented, seemingly at random. Elena snickered before she thought better of it, then quietly got back to her chocolate milk.

"What?" Damon demanded.

"Nothing," Elena replied. "It's just… Your place looks very euhm-, design-like," she added. "I never saw that in you," she finished.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know," he replied, watching how Elena's legs were curled underneath her body. "The colouring is kind of cold at home. Katherine thought that looked elegant and I never thought to object," he explained.

"How does Sophie like it?" Elena wondered. She had done a lot of babysitting in the past and it had taught her that kids mostly preferred different colours and fluffiness over delicate black leather.

"Oh, she's too young to care yet," Damon responded, "Although I bet she'd love to jump on this one," he added, testing the springs of the sofa with his hands."

Elena grinned. "She's a special girl, you're doing a wonderful job raising her," she spoke softly.

"Thanks," Damon acknowledged, remembering she'd already told him that earlier in the evening.

"How is she?" Elena inquired tentatively. "I remember you being worried a little while back."

"Well, she misses her mother, obviously… but apart from that she'll be alright I guess," Damon retorted a bit sharper.

"What happened to Katherine?" Elena wondered out loud.

"She left," Damon said simply.

"Just like that?" Elena inquired.

"Just like that." Damon confirmed.

"But you were together for over… 5 years[CVD1] , weren't you? Elena tentatively urged him to explain.

"Yes. So?" Damon retorted defensively.

"So 5 years is a very long time to wipe away in just a few months…" Elena mused.

"Six," Damon corrected. "We were married for almost _six_ years."[CVD2]

"Were you happy?" Elena inquired softly.

"I was ok," Damon told her in a calculated tone.

"Then why did you get married?" Elena questioned, slightly confused.

"That is a really long story," Damon told her, tapping his foot soundlessly against the side of the sofa.

Elena caught onto the movement instantly and before she thought better of it she had shifted a little closer. She knew all his tells and all his ticks; that's what happens when you've been in love. If they'd been together now, then this would have been the point where she would have moved behind him to put her hands on his shoulders, willing the stress away as she rubbed soothing circles into his skin. For tonight she had to refrain, however, so she settled for a meaningful look instead.

Her eyes were open and genuine as they met Damon's. She didn't break contact as she spoke. "You can tell it if you feel up to it…" she encouraged him softly. "Sometimes it can be good to talk about things, and I don't have any friends to repeat it to nowadays anyhow," she added with a wry smile.

_A place where you can share anything and know that what's yours will be kept safe and protected_.

Damon almost rolled his eyes at that, it made him think about the dozens of conversations they'd had like this. Elena had always been the one he could come home to and vent about his day and during all that time they were together he'd taken it for granted. Talking was a way to spend your time, sure, but to a real men like Damon, it wasn't a necessity, at least that's what he consistently told himself.

Nonetheless, after six long years without much deep or meaningful conversation, it was almost hilarious to hear Elena offer it so simply. Especially after he'd spend months and eventually an entire decade without ever repeating their rare moments in which it was he who found shelter in someone, instead of the other way around. There had never been someone like that after Elena. He felt like he'd finally found water in the desert, as he realized that she had truly meant it whenever she insisted that he could always come to her with anything. Eventually he shrugged it off. He wasn't a teenage girl, nor was he a drama queen. He regained his grip and stilled his foot before taking a subtle shallow breath and trying to sound casual as he started talking.

In his concentration to find a good beginning, he missed the little lights in Elena's eyes as she watched him. It felt so wonderfully familiar to her to see him ground himself and find his words. Her fingers itched to reach for Damon's, who were secretly flexing by his side. As Damon realized his eyes were fixated on the Elena's hands as a result of his increased concentration, he looked up with a quick confident smirk to hide the small lapse as efficiently as he could.

Then he started, impulsively choosing from a register of explanations that could compensate for his sudden vulnerability. He wasn't about to start with an emotional '_we never fell in love'_\- tragedy.

"I know this might sound strange to you," he began, "but Kat and I never did the date-proposal-marriage thing. We just slept together. _Repeatedly_. And _that was it _in the beginning. It was fun," he defended his actions self-assured. He didn't dare to meet her eyes, though. After the dozens of talks they'd once had about how sex equalled love, he was certain she wouldn't approve.

Elena did her best not to roll her eyes, she was already happy that he phrased it as 'sleeping together' and hadn't opted for the more colourful 'screwing' or 'fucking'. _Yes, that did make a difference._

"We mostly bonded over liquor in my father's pool," Damon added, still feeling the need to stress his manliness. _As if that was the way to do that_.

"That sounds very responsible," Elena mocked playfully.

"It wasn't. _Don't ever breathe a word of this to Sophie_. She's not allowed to drink. _Ever_," Damon insisted.

Elena grinned. "Sure." She smiled. "Is that the point where you two fell in love?" Elena inquired, trying hard to hide the smile in her voice. She knew well enough that Damon and Katherine didn't have a fluffy romance.

"No, not really. But we started dating," Damon replied, oblivious to how fast Elena had caught onto the main theme.

"Do you miss her?" Elena inquired, asking the one question that had been burning on her mind for the longest time already.

"No." Damon replied simply, his voice void of the vindictive undercurrent that usually joined his every statement in regard to Katherine. "It's hard to miss someone you've never loved…" he mused wistfully.

"How did you end up marrying someone you didn't love?" Elena inquired hesitantly, not wanting to upset him.

"And there's not enough alcohol to make the answer to that not depressing," Damon insisted.

"Well, we do have chocolate," Elena suggested, trying to lighten his mood. She shifted her body slightly more in his direction. "Tell me," she urged.

"Even if it's not a story to be proud off?" Damon double-checked.

"No judgment," Elena promised.

Damon send her a small smile, slightly nervous under her gaze. "Fine," he surrendered.

"We met back when Kat was 20, I still-, I wasn't up for romance, so we basically had an arrangement in which there was a lot of alcohol and a lot of-

"Yeah, I get it," Elena shook her head slightly, rolling her eyes at him.

"Anyhow: one day I found her crying and she didn't like that. I guess that's when we both realized that what we had wasn't a relationship but rather a collection of sleepovers… I awkwardly tried comforting her, being there… but forging a connection never really worked out for us. She wouldn't let me in, and eventually she effectively locked me out by packing her bags," Damon summarized, staring at the hands in his lap. Elena could see him try to push passed the shame in the back of his mind.

"You were barely out of college. 23, right? Don't worry about it, we all did things we regret," Elena tried comforting him. "Besides, you two did make a family for Sophie, didn't you?" she insisted.

"Yeah, we did," Damon smiled. "Katherine returned a few weeks later, pregnant. And even though we never had that epic-romance going on, I was happy to be a father. I vowed to myself that I'd do the best possible job at it and Sophie really is the best thing that's ever happened to me…" Damon mused, looking up at Elena now.

"Was Katherine happy she was pregnant?" Elena wondered out loud.

Damon snorted, raising his eyebrows. "She wasn't particularly a natural at parenting in the beginning…" he explained. "The only language she ever learned to speak fluently was sarcasm," he mocked. "But I do have to admit that she got better and better. She did care about Sophie, especially near the end. Otherwise I would have never survived 5 years with her…" Damon admitted.

"Sophie loves her mother, she really misses her. Katherine must have done something right," Elena said softly.

"I know," Damon said wistfully, his mind flashed back to a few months before.

xXx

_Five months earlier_

"Mommy, I want the pink one!" Sophie insisted.

"Pink is for babies Soph, the red one is for elegant women. It's a better colour," Katherine dismissed her daughter's comment, continuing to apply the scarlet nail polish. When she was done she admired her handiwork. "Beautiful," she commented. "You look absolutely stunning," Katherine complimented her little girl. The four-year-old was dressed in a little red dress that made her exquisite chocolate curls stand out even more. She looked adorable.

When Damon entered the kitchen, Sophie was climbing on top of her highchair at the counter to crawl on top of her mother's lap, who was sitting on a stool, flipping through a magazine.

"Kat! She's about to-" Damon started to yell, but his wife had already caught their four-year-old by the waist, before he could finish his sentence. It was a good thing the girl was still under thirty pounds, otherwise that trick would not have worked. The highchair fell loudly on top of the kitchen tiles and Damon expected his daughter to start crying any second from the sudden noise.

"See, this woman has red polish too Soph," Katherine informed her daughter, distracting her and settling the small child on her crossed legs. "I told you the colour was in season, didn't I?"

Sophie nodded a little befuddled.

"OOOooh and this women's boyfriend slept with at least five skanks, auch," she commented further, pointing at the next page.

"Katherine, I swear if you continue to use that language around her I'm gonna-, gonna-" Damon started, swallowing his thread just in time.

Katherine locked eyes with Sophie and pouted, "You heard that, sweetheart?" she question in mock-seriousness. "Don't ever piss off the diabolical ones…" she whispered, winking at Damon.

Damon shook his head at the sight of his wife on the stool. She never appeared to be watching their daughter, always pre-occupied with fashion, or design. Still, Sophie hadn't fallen down, instead she was happily cuddling close to her mom, and Damon couldn't really say that he'd recently seen otherwise.

Sure, he didn't always approve of the way Katherine chose to spend time with their daughter, but there was no denying that Katherine did spend a lot of time entertaining Sophie, even if she did so in her own way.

"Are you cooking tonight, or am I?" Katherine wondered out loud.

Damon snorted, Katherine didn't cook, instead she 'arranged for food'. It wasn't the same thing. Still, he couldn't complain, over the last few years Katherine had increasingly stepped up in arranging a part of their household. It wasn't like she could ever be perceived as a doting housewife, but she did try her best to insure that it didn't always come down on Damon lately.

"I'll cook," Damon replied, picking up the highchair form the floor. "Can you give Sophie a bath in the meantime?" he asked.

Katherine sent him an aggravated look, she hated it when her clothing got wet and on top of that, the hot bathroom always made her slightly sweaty. Damon was happy she didn't voice those thoughts out loud anymore however, it was much better for Sophie's peace of mind this way.

I'm sorry, Damon mouthed, giving her a pleading glance. He wasn't feeling up for eating another take-out salad and if he had to give his daughter a bath after cooking, Sophie would miss bedtime.

Katherine rolled her eyes at him and nodded.

"Don't put the window-" all the way open, he wanted to warn, but Katherine quickly interrupted.

"I'm not stupid, you know," she muttered. She wasn't one to freeze her daughter to death. She cared about Sophie.

"Pick up?" Sophie questioned adorably in a small voice, her eyes wide as she reached her hands out for her mother to pick her up and carry her.

Her mom shook her head dismissively, holding out her hand instead. "You're four. You're a young woman, not a baby," she insisted. Damon rolled his eyes in aggravation. He did trust his wife enough by now, to believe that she'd help their daughter ascend the stairs when she rounded the corner, otherwise he would have gone after them.

**xXx**

"How come Katherine suddenly disappeared?" Elena wondered, pulling Damon back to reality.

A deep sigh escaped Damon's lips. "I still haven't figured it out," Damon told her after a long moment of silence. "One day she just freaked out. She went completely crazy on us. So crazy I even accused her of taking drugs and being high, that's how insane it got."

"Just like that?" Elena questioned confused.

"Hmm," Damon murmured.

"That doesn't make any sense… Not after the two of you spending _six years_ together. One top of that, I don't understand how she could leave Sophie behind…" Elena drew.

"She didn't. Not at first. That day, she packed Sophie's things too, she wanted to take her away from me, I physically had to fight her, I even called Ric. Then barely a few weeks later she picked Sophie up from school. I thought I'd lost her…"

The pain in Damon's eyes was evident and Elena's heart sunk. This was the man she knew and loved all those years ago and it hurt to see him so torn and anguished. Seeing Damon conflicted brought back all the memories of their time together, back when she couldn't make sense of things either. At least she'd always been able to hold him and be the person he came home to. She didn't dare to claim that role now… Still, she couldn't deny that that was exactly who she wanted to be, the one to run her hands through his hair and promise him that whatever would be ahead, they'd face it together.

_A place to come home and hide yourself away_.

"There must be a logical explanation, Damon," Elena spoke softly.

"You weren't there, Elena. It was crazy. I've replayed that scene over and over in my head: her paranoid insinuations, the fear in her eyes. I literally had to physically protect my daughter or she would have taken her and left. _One crazy day_… I'd never seen her like that before. I've never seen her again either..." Damon's voice trailed off.

"Have you tried contacting her, to hear her side of things. She never did anything like this in 6 years, don't you find it a little suspicious that she only showed that sight of her after over 2000 days. That doesn't sound like a woman with a mental problem, but someone who panicked. Did anything strange happen to her in those last days, did she experience some kind of trauma?" Elena urged.

"The only one who experienced trauma was my daughter!" Damon raised his voice. "Sophie has been through hell and back because of her mother's antics.

Elena turned silent. This was clearly not a conversation Damon was ready for. She did however, make a mental note to find out more about the subject later. There was something incomplete about Damon's explanation in her opinion.

"Have you found someone for Sophie to talk to," Elena asked instead, changing the subject.

"Care… usually," Damon replied.

"Caroline," Elena mused slightly rueful. The two of them had been practically attached to the hip when day were younger, but that had all changed once Care had accused her best friend of breaking her brother's heart. Elena never had to heart to delete Caroline's number from her phone, but it wasn't one she could call anymore, she missed that. She missed her. "How has she been?" Elena wondered out loud.

"Well, lately she's been great," Damon replied, "Back when you and she parted ways, not so much though," Damon added ruefully. It was no use keeping that from Elena.

"How come?" Elena inquired.

A deep sigh escaped Damon's lips. "Well, at some point, you were going to find out anyhow, so I guess now is as good a time as ever I suppose," he spoke.

"What are you talking about?" Elena questioned.

My father had cancer…" Damon paused before continuing. "My father had been feeling weak for quite some time. That fainting spell the night he had his birthday was no exception. It's a miracle my mother actually managed to keep it out of the media, for months we assumed my father wasn't going to survive."

"Is he-, is he ok now?" Elena inquired tentatively as she tried to fathom what Damon was telling her.

"He's been in remission for years now," Damon replied. "That's also why he resigned his position all those years back."

"I always assumed-"

"No." Damon shook his head, interrupting her train of thoughts. "The blackmailing had nothing to do with that. You know mother, she wouldn't have allowed my dad to step down for anything less than a life threatening illness." Damon rolled his eyes.

"How was Caroline?" Elena asked softly.

"Care lost it…" Damon's voice turned bitter. "First of all, my mother placed her in this ridiculous institute where she got more depressed by the minute, and on top of that she wasn't allowed to let it show. Mother was very strict about the information we gave 'strangers', no one was to know of my father's '_condition_'." The knuckles of the hand resting on Damon's knee turned white.

"It was inhuman at times. Caroline had just lost you, and she was the new kid in an all-girls school with no real friends at all. I don't know if it was about bullying or just the stress at home, but she barely ate, she was so withdrawn. At times it felt like I had lost her the day I lost you… I tried to speak about it with my parents over the phone since I was off to college myself, but dad was always in the hospital, leaving Care alone with mother…"

Elena caught Damon tapping his foot against the sofa again, he clearly had difficulty reliving painful memories…

**xXx**

Eleven year ago

"Barbie, get out before all the hot water runs out, it's a bungalow, not the Ritz in Paris!" Damon shouted from the other side of the bathroom door. "Besides, not a thousand showers are gonna get that Robinson stench off your skin," he commented loudly.

"Oh bite me!" Caroline yelled over the sound of running water. Yet she did forget that they were indeed in an old bungalow, one where their father had taken away the keys to prevent dangerous situations in case of a fire.

"Damon! Towel, knock!" Caroline squealed suddenly, as her brother opened the door without permission.

"Caroline, no one cares." Damon shot back, opening the door further and further at a tauntingly slow pace.

"Daaaaaaaaaad!" Caroline yelled loudly, hoping their parents hadn't left yet.

Damon entered with his eyes cast downwards, which led to him to notice a strip of pills on the floor underneath the sink. He swiftly picked it up, inspecting. "Blondie, what are these?" he demanded, still not looking up. His sister grabbed for them, but he held them out of her reach.

"Damon! Give them back!" she whined.

"No," Damon decided firmly.

Caroline quickly realized that a fight would only draw more parental attention, so she quickly grabbed her clothes and rushed out nervously, intending to get the medication back later.

**xXx**

"One night I caught Care rummaging through my things, trying to find a strip of pills I had confiscated from her earlier that day…" Damon started.

"Drugs?" Elena inquired concerned.

"Diuretics," Damon corrected.

"What are those?" Elena inquired.

"The kind of pills that make bodybuilders lose weight," Damon explained.

"Oh God," Elena whispered, a sad frown tainted her lovely features.

"Yeah… I got really bad. At a certain point she didn't even look like herself anymore. She lost over fifteen pounds, started isolating herself, she barely ate, she was depressed…" Damon's voice trailed off and Elena saw the tapping of his foot picking up again. His thumb was rhythmically flexing against his pointer finger, popping softly every time it managed to slip away.

"I can't believe none of us saw it coming, I should have been there sooner," Damon spoke softly, gritting his teeth against the worst-case scenarios he wanted to block out. Some days he still thought about all the things that could have happened if he hadn't intervened, it wouldn't have been that strange had she passed out of the streets.

"Hey," Elena disrupted his thoughts. Damon's eyes slid instantly to the hand she had placed over his, putting his flexing to a halt. Catching onto his own nervous behaviour now, he instantly stilled his foot again, checking his breathing too, to be certain that it hadn't accidentally joined the nervous routine.

It was only when he was sure he had every part of himself under control again, that he had time to wonder when Elena had closed the distance between them.

Elena was about to ask herself the same thing as she paused the finger that was gingerly trailing the outline of his thumb.

Damon caught her gaze and Elena's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry," she apologized instantly, taking her hand back.

"Don't-" Damon responded quickly, holding onto her hand before she could pull it away. "Don't be sorry," he finished, trying to use his eyes to convey everything he couldn't voice out loud.

"Caroline got better, didn't she?" Elena whispered, needing something to occupy her mind that wasn't the depth of Damon's piercing blue eyes.

Damon nodded firmly. "She did," he announced. "Right from the first day I took her out of that house."

Elena tilted her head questioningly. "I thought you were in college back then," she mused.

"I was. But I stayed in an apartment at the time, so I enrolled Caroline in a High school in the neighbourhood there so she could live with me," Damon spoke proudly.

"Wow. It's hard to imagine your mother allowing that…"

Damon snickered. "Oh she didn't… Of course she didn't. But when I informed her that it was either that or me dropping out of college to live at home, she wisely reconsidered." Damon gave Elena a small smile. She returned it.

"So… Did she turn back to normal after she moved in?" Elena wondered, her voice hopeful.

"Of course she did," Damon replied smugly. "And by the time she joined me in college she was completely her annoying, bubbly old self again," Damon spoke dramatically. The affection in his words was unmistakable however. "And after her first year of college, she fell in love and moved out."

Elena grinned. "Is she still together with the guy?" she inquired.

"Oh nooo," Damon shook his head. "Now we're about one, two, three, four, five, six, no five… I guess five and a half flings later," Damon joked, counting comically on his fingers.

"Haha, well at least she's having fun." Elena smiled.

"Are you having fun?" Damon questioned silently.

"Yeah," Elena told him, sincerity emanating from her reply. "It's been ages since we talked like this," she finished. Damon met her eyes and blinked a second longer than he had to. The gesture said it all, clearly indicating that he understood the unspoken thoughts behind her statement.

They sat like that for a while, Damon daring to slip his fingers in between hers, entwining their fingers. He could feel Elena's fingers tremble just slightly underneath his, it made him want to reach them up to his lips, but he refrained, fearing it might startle her.

One song switched to the next as the silence between them stretched on.

One couldn't possibly perceive it as them wasting their time though, they were exactly where they wanted to be.

_A place where you feel like you have everything you might ever need…_

"Steal my heart and hold my tongue.  
I feel my time, my time has come," Chris Martin suddenly suggested, accompanied by a guitar melody that had come to be familiar for both of them.

"_'Til kingdom come_," they both whispered in sync. Damon smiled and Elena cast her eyes down shyly.

"That's the last track of Coldplay's X&amp;Y album," Damon added softly, slightly disappointed with himself that he hadn't predicted the moment. They'd been listening to the album all evening long already and he knew it like the back of his hand.

"It's the first album that was released after we broke up," Elena voiced.

"I know," Damon whispered. He'd used it just the same way she had. They both had a habit of drowning in music when life got difficult.  
_2005, a time when Youtube only months old and people still bought CDs._

'Til kingdom come.  
_'Til kingdom come.  
_Elena didn't say a word, she wasn't about to risk embarrassment, not when things were going so well between them.

She didn't need to though, since it was only seconds later that Damon's mind caught up with hers.

"Forever and always, 'Til kingdom come," he remembered softly, a small smile played across his lips.

"You did read it then," Elena concluded only half-surprised.

"You mean: I did find it… eventually, that is," Damon corrected.

"How so?" Elena questioned, tilting her head his way.

"Mother took it upon herself to protect me from you. I only found your letter five years ago, back when Katherine was in her final term. Mother was in the hospital at the time and she needed some papers from the insurance company. Guess what I found in our safe when I went home to fetch her those papers?"

"She didn't," Elena voiced incredulously.

"Of course she did," Damon replied. "There's a reason I no longer speak to her, you know…" Damon told her, glancing sideways.[CVD3]

"Did you find Caroline's letter [CVD4] too?" Elena wondered.

"No," Damon replied, "I never expected there to be two," he responded. "But I can call father, we can get it back if you want to," he suggested.

"I'm not sure," Elena replied. "It's been years, maybe she's just moved on," she mused wistfully.

"There's not really any moving on from you, Elena," Damon voiced.

Elena gingerly rested her head against Damon's shoulder as the music in the background slowly echoed away.  
"_Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me_."

**xXx**

Any young minds who have followed Harry Potter since the first movie release, are out of High School now. We have all moved on, to a world without potions and spells.

Still, if you're lucky, you can find that not all Happy Potter ideals are to be left behind. Because that place where you can rest your head, the place where you can hide away, the place where you can share anything and know that any thoughts, fears; anything of importance will be safe and protected… One could find that place in the ones we love. It's magic.

**xXx**

_Just give these loving arms a try baby  
And have a little faith in me_

**xXx**


	13. Losing my religion

_**xXx**__  
Consider this.  
Consider this, the hint of the century  
Consider this, the slip.  
The lengths that I will go to._

**xXx**

Danger. We live in an era of conflict, in a changing society. Don't act like you don't know that there's a severe issue, because every year there's more and more of them; and at this point there's still no universal plan of action. People are suffering because of it, _children_ are suffering because of it.

Ever since the seventies, their number is steadily growing. They are insidiously toxic, trying to force their crazy values and different traditions upon us. We were first. But they don't care. Out of some misplaced feeling of superiority, they think they know better.

Would you believe that they think they have the right to tell us how we should dress, what we should eat, who we can befriend and what time we should go to sleep. They are manipulative and indoctrinating, turning our own brothers against us. Don't believe them when they say that they respect mothers, the only Mom they respect is their own.

If you have to deal with them on a daily basis, patience and goodwill are of the essence. It's not always enough, but it can save some of your tears… And if it gets impossible at one point, know you are not alone. Plus, don't forget that they are not all monsters, some stepmothers are wonderful women.

**xXx**

_Oh no, I've said too much  
Yet I haven't said enough._

**xXx**

"And, did it take?" Damon questioned anxiously when Elena re-entered the office.

"Of course it did, Mister Salvatore," Elena replied playfully, making a small reverence with her plaid skirt. She had a huge smirk lighting up her features, rightfully so, she had done the company a solid. Saltzman &amp; Partners was specialized in real estate projects, yet with the twenty first century bureaucrats and a society growing increasingly fond of lawsuits, it was becoming a difficult profession.

If a neighbour objected to one of their projects, that meant a significant delay for the company, not to mention the financial prices connected to trials. In that aspect, one of Damon's and Elena's tasks was to talk to neighbours and work out deals and compromises so the company faced as little interruptions as possible.

"Wow, consider me impressed," Damon commented, drinking in her appearance.

"Well, it was just a grumpy old man. He didn't have any true objections to the project, I believe it only interested him as a means to occupy his time. It doesn't matter now anyway, he signed the papers," Elena replied.

"What did you promise him in turn?" Damon inquired suspiciously, knowing neighbours never simply surrendered.

"That the gardener of the apartment building will mow his lawn too," Elena replied swiftly. "I have it right here on paper, third paragraph. Ric signed."

Damon grinned and shook his head.

"Hey, don't mock him. Just because it's not important to you, doesn't mean it wasn't important to him," Elena chided.

"Fine," Damon surrendered, shuffling through papers and opening a new folder. They worked in silence for a minute or two. _Important to you_… there was something important he had to remember. _Right_. "Elena?" Damon called when she saw she was about to head home.

"Yeah?" she replied, looking up from her phone.

"I-, _Sophie_ was asking if you'd be up for dinner on Friday. We always watch a movie together to celebrate the start of the weekend and she feels the night isn't 'special enough' when it's just the two of us. Usually Ric comes by, but apparently he's already made _other plans_," Damon explained, wiggling his eyebrows at the 'other plans' part[CVD1] .

"Sure," Elena replied. It had been over a week since their heart to heart at midnight. If she was honest with herself, she did look forward to spending more time with Damon, and the idea of getting to know Sophie better didn't bother her in the least either. "What time does the movie start?" she questioned with a smile.

"Seven," Damon replied swiftly, "And dinner will be served at six, otherwise Sophie's late for bed and she needs her sleep these days," Damon commented.

"Are her nightmares any better yet?" Elena inquired concerned.

Damon shook his head ruefully, packing up for the day. Elena opened her mouth to say something but closed it again on second thought. She felt it might not be the worst idea for Damon to contact Katherine again, if not for his own peace of mind, then for his daughter's. Yet something stopped her from voicing those thoughts out loud. Elena couldn't decide though whether it was the fear that he'd bitterly disagree with her, or the fear that he would not…

**xXx**

_that's me in the corner  
That's me in the spotlight, losing my religion.  
Trying to keep up with you  
And I don't know if I can do it._  
**xXx**

Three days later

"What did you do then?" Sophie questioned curiously as Elena was telling her about the time when she and Caroline had been best friends.

"We used to do lots of things," Elena told her, "We would spy on the boys and read girly magazines, we would collect posters, we would jog together," Elena mused, when Damon walked into her line of sight.

Damon snorted, remembering her fainting, then he continued to chop carrots. They shared a quick glance.

"One time I fainted," Elena spoke. "I just fell, in the middle of the lawn and I didn't stand up again. And then your father carried me inside and made it better, like a real hero," she informed Sophie, who was smiling broadly now.

"Aunt Caroline wants a hero," Sophie remembered, "Maybe this is why," she concluded thoughtfully.

Both Damon and Elena laughed at that, Caroline had always been vocal about her specific preferences when it came to relationships. On the other hand, she usually settled for a 'random fling' in the end, defending her actions by stating that if she had to wait for 'the one', she would be old and wrinkly before she had her first kiss.

**xXx**

Eleven years earlier

"This one is absolutely gorgeous. What do you think, Elena?" Caroline questioned, holding up the magazine she was flipping through.

"I think we have a history assignment and it's not going to write itself," Elena commented dryly.

"Oh come one, don't be so boring!" Caroline complained. "Besides, I need this, as in: I really really really need this!" she argued.

Elena looked up from behind their textbook with a deep sigh. "We should go to the doctor's, see if they have some kind of medication for your insanity," she mocked.

"They have," Caroline replied, "The pharmacist's son will do, do you think Mister Richard would prescribe him to me?" she wondered mused. Elena rolled her eyes.

"I just want a boooooyfriend, it's been two months," Caroline whined.

"And I want you to open your textbook, I'm sure that's been over two months," Elena retorted.

Caroline tossed the magazine aside and moved to the desk, where she went to sit on the spare chair in the wrong direction, her arms draped over on the backrest. "It's just that I crave affection…" Caroline spoke dramatically, "You know, the most exciting thing that happened in the past eight weeks was that one evening when a guy in the bus accidentally placed part of his hand over mine for a second, trying to steady himself," she added ruefully.

"On purpose?" Elena questioned.

"No, he apologized a million times," Caroline replied with a pout.

Elena felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips, it was impossible not to smile when her best friend was being dramatic. Caroline's pout instantly disappeared and she laughed along, trying for a fake "Don't mock me," but she couldn't keep her face straight.

**xXx**

There was no denying that Elena missed Caroline, no one could make her smile the way her best friend could. They were polar opposites in many ways nonetheless. At the end of the year, Elena was usually able to say she passed every single test, while Caroline could always state that she 'had a life'. Elena still wasn't sure which one of them had chosen the best approach.

The two girls had always balanced each other out very well, perfectly apt in helping one another with their issues, while incapable of dealing with their own. They always supported each other and they could talk for hours.

"Will you and aunt Caroline be friends again soon?" Sophie suddenly inquired, pulling Elena out of her reverie.

"I hope we will," Elena replied honestly.

"I can talk to her for you," Sophie suggested genuinely.

"That's a kind offer, sweetheart, but I believe Elena and Caroline have to talk about this on their own terms," Damon interrupted, putting the food on the table and taking the seat across from Elena. He shot her a quick glance and changed the subject, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable.

**xXx**

The evening progressed quicker than any of them had thought it would. If felt like only a few minutes had gone by when the credits rolled onto the screen, signalling the end of the movie. Sophie giggled loudly as the bloopers popped up, she was sitting on Elena's lap under her favourite blanket.

Damon shot a glance at the clock, it was a quarter to nine, bedtime for his daughter, yet even he had a hard time enacting his own rules, seeing his little girl carelessly enjoy herself. Five minutes later however, the bloopers were over and he couldn't keep stalling so he announced that it was time for Sophie to go to sleep.

"Can Elena come tuck me in tonight?" Sophie inquired out of the blue, looking at her father with big doe eyes.

Damon locked eyes with Elena, who appeared to be surprised at first, but didn't object.

"She can, but are you sure?" Damon questioned, his tone serious. Sophie usually didn't allow for anyone but himself to put her to bed. Driving home in Ric's car and sitting on Caroline's or Jo's lap, were all things Sophie enjoyed. She especially liked it when one of the women gave her a bath. Everything that differed from her usual routine with Damon was an exciting adventure to her. Bedtime however, had always the one exception to that rule. It surprised him that Sophie asked for Elena, she hadn't even known her for that long.

His five-year-old nodded.

"Or your father can come too, and we can put you to sleep together," Elena suggested first, for one because she didn't know about the rituals Sophie preferred and secondly because she didn't want to exclude Damon.

Sophie shook her head. "No, only girls," she stated determined.

"Soph, you know we only tuck you in once, right. So if you don't want me to come along, then I won't be there. Are you sure you don't want us both upstairs?" Damon inquired a final time.

"Nope," Sophie replied, throwing her arms around her father and giving him a big kiss on his cheek. "I love you, daddy," she told him. "Love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight," Damon replied, watching his daughter run upstairs in a hurry. He tilted his head in wonder.

Elena stood up from the sofa, slightly confused. "Do you want to do this?" Damon questioned softly, standing up too.

"Yes, of course," Elena replied, "but I guess I'm not following here," she added, "Didn't Ric say last week that she cried for over half an hour when he and Jo tried [CVD2] putting her to sleep?"

"Yes. I don't know what this is about," Damon spoke, "I think she misses her mother, maybe you remind her of Katherine or something, whatever it is, she looks very at ease with you," Damon noted.

"But I don't know her evening ritual. Is there a song you sing at night? Do you read to her?" Elena inquired.

"She's already in her PJs and she brushed her teeth after dinner," Damon told her, "Just read her a chapter from the book on the nightstand and leave the door open just a crack," Damon explained. "Besides, I don't think she'll fall asleep right away, I suspect her to call for me after you've tucked her in. This could just be a way to procrastinate bedtime, but I believe she wants a moment alone with you before she goes to sleep. There's nothing wrong with that, it gives me time to clean up the kitchen in the meantime ," Damon spoke.

Elena nodded hesitantly. "Ok, I'll see you in a couple of minutes then," she voiced, before making her way upstairs.

**xXx**

_I think  
I thought  
I saw you just try._

**xXx**

When Elena arrived in the little girl's bedroom, Sophie was sitting on top of her covers, impatiently swinging her legs back and forth. She smiled slightly nervously when she saw Elena entering and then seemingly randomly inquired: "Can I have your phone for a bit?"

Elena blinked only once, taken aback. She had not seen this coming.  
She watched the little girl with her wide and innocent eyes and silently cursing herself. This was the child she had comforted weeks ago at work, the child she'd prepared hot chocolate for, the child she'd held on her lap and bonded with. An ever growing part of her had hoped she was beginning to mean something to the little girl. It had nothing to do with her past with Damon, she had simply grown fond of the enchanting child the second Sophie had wrapped her arms around her in the company kitchen.

Now they were weeks later and had shared more conversations, more moments close together. A part of Elena had hoped that Sophie thought of her as a true friend, that hope had bloomed in her chest. Yet now it appeared that she'd only asked for Elena's company because she needed something of hers. Elena swallowed and tried to force a smile upon her face, hiding the sting of disappointment. It wasn't easy.

"I'm not sure your father would like that, Sophie," Elena spoke softly, trying to compose herself and reinsert some emotional distance on her side. "Maybe you can go downstairs and ask him," she suggested.

Sophie's face fell and she shook her head slightly. "And when it's secret," she tried next. "Can I have it for a bit if I don't tell daddy? If I promise?" Sophie questioned, her tone serious and heavy.

_Was the sweet brown-eyed girl trying to manipulate her_? Elena shrugged the thought off. Sophie wasn't the kind of child that would try to use her, she had to have a reason, Elena told herself.

"Why do you need a phone?" Elena asked her confused.

"To call someone," Sophie told her, with big innocent eyes. "It's really, really important," Sophie insisted, her tone sincere, her expression innocent. It had Elena thinking. "Come," she replied warmly, holding out her hand now, "We'll ask daddy, I'm sure he'll let you," she added. He would, Elena was most certain, especially when he saw how important it was to his daughter.

"No!" Sophie spoke quickly, pulling Elena back to the bed. "Daddy doesn't understand," Sophie stated firmly. "And daddy won't like it, but I have to, have to call," she stressed.

"Who do you have to call," Elena inquired.

Sophie squirmed under her Elena's for just a moment, before she fathomed that she had to confide in Elena if she wanted her help. "Mommy…" she spoke. Her voice half a whisper, half a sob.

Then it dawned on Elena, the desperation in the little girl's eyes, her anxiousness. _Damon might know that his daughter wasn't sleeping well, but he did not suspect how much Katherine's absence was truly affecting his daughter._

Her heart sank in her chest. "I can't let you call if your dad is not ok with that," Elena whispered to Sophie, lightly stroking the child's hair now.

"Yeah," Sophie snorted softly, leaning her head against Elena's shoulder in disappointment. She wasn't even angry. She'd expected as much. "That's what uncle Ric says, and Caroline, and everyone," Sophie spoke ruefully. She felt Elena's hands slide down from her hair now and gently lift her, onto her lap. Neither of them said a word. When Elena's arms settled around the little girl, the child was cradled against her chest.

Sophie allowed the material at the bottom of Elena's top to slip between her fingers, it felt so soft, softer than anything her father would wear. And Elena smelled different, more like flowers, more feminine… And right that second, in Sophie's mind, Elena smelled like her Mom. Tears prickled in her eyes and the moment became too much. "I c-, can't w-, w-, w-ait until I'm g-, g-rown up. It-, it, it's too l-, long," Sophie uttered between sobs, she had lost the fight against her tears and they were flowing freely down her cheeks now. Elena thought she could hear her heart shatter, she instinctively pulled the child closer, settling them both against the headboard of the bed.

"Shhhhh," she shushed the little girl, rocking her gently. A part of her thought about looking for something to tell the small child, but the more Sophie cried, the more she rendered Elena short on words.

"I m-, miss m-, mommy _now_," Sophie stressed. "I-, I-, I st- stole daddy's ph-, phone," she confessed, "but I c-, can't r-, read it," she explained. Elena nodded, imagining the little girl sifting through Damon's contacts in search for her mother. She held onto the little girl even more tightly now, desperately trying to contain her own emotions. She felt like crying. She couldn't.

In the blink of an eye she'd forgotten all about her earlier thoughts, in that moment she simply wanted for Katherine to be there and sooth the little girl. Playing house with Damon one day was a wonderful fantasy in the distant future, but it was no more than that: a fantasy. Sophie needed her mother, and Elena knew that feeling. She had no desire to become the little girl's despised stepmother.

In the years after her parents had broken up, her father had dated many women. Luckily none of them had been the one he'd cheated on her mother with. Still, Elena had never gotten along with any of them. Those women always loved her father, but none of them had ever cared about her. Sure, they expected to have a say in what chores she did in the house and where she could or could not leave her things wandering around, but she hadn't truly mattered to a single one of them. She only mattered to her mother.

Elena was the last person on the planet to ever treat a childlike she'd been treated herself. She knew better than to criticize the little girl's mother in her present, or try to claim the role of 'parent' for herself. Things didn't work that way.

Instead, she felt a new kind of connection to Sophie, some sort of kinship leading her very inclined to pull her phone out and hand it over. Contrary to Damon, _she understood_.

"I don't have you mother's number," Elena whispered after a while. She'd taken a pillow to put between her back and the headboard, Sophie's head was resting against her chest.

"There's a big book with all the phone-numbers," Sophie uttered with some difficulty, "Mommy's name is Ka-, Katherine," she informed Elena. Her chest was still rising and falling at an irregular rhythm. Elena wiped a lone strand of her away from the child's cheek, the tears had left it moist.

"I know," Elena spoke softly, "But that's not specific enough… And if I hand you my phone behind daddy's back, then he might be angry, and we can't be friends anymore," Elena mused.

For an instant she thought Sophie would voice that she was willing to risk that, on second thought that wouldn't even be strange, but Sophie kept quiet and hid her face in the smooth fabric of Elena's top.

"I used to miss my mom too," Elena spoke up, "My mom and dad separated when I was 15, and when I had to spend time with my father, I would miss my mom too," Elena explained.

The statement caught Sophie's attention and she perked up her ears. "What would you do then?" Sophie inquired. "I would close my eyes at night and imagine my mother's smell, her voice, the way it felt when she hugged me… and I would act like she was there with me," Elena replied truthfully.

The small child wiggled a bit on Elena's lap and then arranged Elena's arms around her in a different way, closing her eyes. She nested her head underneath Elena's chin and stayed very still for a long moment. Seconds turned into minutes and neither of them spoke.

When Elena moved slightly, Sophie clutched the fabric of her top. "Don't go," Sophie blurted out panicked.

A soft hand raked through her brown curls, calming her down, "Not yet," Elena whispered. "But let's tuck you in first, then I can read you a story," Elena suggested.

"And then?" Sophie questioned anxiously.

"Then I'll be downstairs with you father, but you can call me if you need me," Elena explained.

"No!" Sophie protested with wide eyes, "You can't go," she managed pained, a new frown appeared on her face and her lower lip trembled softly.

"I can't stay here forever either…" Elena mused ruefully, still holding onto Sophie tightly, who completely missed the double edged nature of those words.

"Not forever," Sophie promised, "just until my mommy comes back." Elena swallowed audibly and composed herself, before she tucked Sophie in. She stoked the little girl's hair until Sophie dozed off with a content smile on her lips.

One finger at a time, Elena gingerly loosed Sophie's hold on her top. The little girl was barely gripping it now, her muscles were relaxing as she drifted deeper into a dream state. Elena kissed the enchanting child's forehead, before she tentatively rose from the bed and made her way downstairs, leaving the door open just a crack.

**xXx**

_Trying to keep an eye on you  
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool  
Oh no, I've said too much  
I've said enough._

**xXx**

The lowest staircase squeaked slightly, causing Damon to look up from his magazine. He was curiously what had taken Elena so long, but he hadn't interfered. He wasn't controlling, if the girls were fine then so was he. Elena was breathing hard and attempting to get a grip on the wild array of emotions spreading through her like wildfire. _Just until my mommy comes back_, she couldn't forget about the words, they were on loop inside of her mind and all of a sudden she just wanted to leave.

She didn't need to face Damon, didn't need to sit on the sofa where's she'd cradled the little girl on her lap. She was jealous, jealous of Katherine. And she couldn't be, she wouldn't be that woman, the one stealing another woman's life. She was feeling selfish and lonely, needing to drive home and wallow in self-pity. Except it wasn't mature to leave. And immaturity had caused all the trouble in the first place, so she took a deep breath and collected herself. Last week she'd had no intention of playing house with Damon, she could suck it up and stay for thirty more minutes. After half an hour she would politely dismiss herself. _Yes, that sounded like a plan._

"Are you ok?" Damon questioned softly when Elena settled down in the sofa. She looked pale and slightly unbalanced to him.

"Yes," Elena replied. "Sophie's asleep," she added politely.

"Wow," Damon voiced, it was clear from his tone that he was impressed, contentment lit up his features. "That's fantastic!" he uttered. "You do know that you're the only one who's managed that apart from me, don't you?" he questioned excitedly.

Elena nodded, a small smile tugging up her lips.

"Come on, show some enthusiasm," he encouraged her. Damon was beaming, he felt like his heart has grown two sizes upon hearing Elena's statement. Elena was the only one he'd ever loved, the only one he ever dreamed of 'coming home to', and the fact that his daughter had obviously taken a special liking in her felt incredible. He didn't understand why Elena's expression didn't match his own. _Wasn't this what she wanted_.

Twinkling blue eyes found Elena's, willing her to understand how much this step meant to him. Yet all it did was allow the first cracks in Elena's façade to show. Her breathing faltered and her face fell.

"Elena?" Damon inquired concerned, he could see her struggling, but even with the best intentions he couldn't figure out what was wrong. All the while his eyes kept in contact with hers, willing her to see him for who he was: the warm and caring man who had never truly stopped loving her.

It was all Elena had ever wanted and suddenly it was too much. She averted her gaze and fought the tears that were brimming in her eyes. _This was it_. This was Damon, the guy who would wrap his arms around her and whisper in her ear. Damon, who was the only one who could always calm her with one look. Never had Elena met someone else who understood her like he had. Damon didn't need five million explanations. He had never awkwardly fumbled and messed up in attempts to ease her mind. No, Damon knew how to handle her, how to stop her crazy mind whenever it threatened to consume her. She'd never even been able to date anyone when she was a teenager, not anyone but Damon.

It sounded so trivial as Elena thought it over, 'Damon, the only one'. _What a cliché_. Except it wasn't, this was real, because there was not a single other guy Elena had ever felt comfortable undressing for. It was a simply example of one of those insecurities that had a tendency of swallowing her whole, with the lights on and her lingerie gone, she had never felt truly confident.

Men often don't understand, how women can still be insecure about all of those things, to most men their girlfriend or wife is hot. Period. _What would they worry about_? But women with the perfect figure, often feel anxious about their cup size, and the women who couldn't possible worry about their cup, are concerned about their weight. Then when neither of those are an issue, it's about how skin isn't flawless or not everywhere as tight, and that's just the tips of the iceberg in terms of insecurities. Of course it doesn't help that many man regularly flip through magazines, jerking off to photo-shopped 'perfection'. _How is one supposed to feel confident, again?_

Damon had always been able to calm that annoying little voice in the back of Elena's mind. Contrary to any other guy she'd met, he had that talent of making her feel confident and beautiful. That feeling was something money couldn't buy. Not unlike the way he could calm her down after a stressful day, or the way he could sense her mood.

Apart from the connection she'd always felt with Damon, she knew that he'd always shared that same connection with her. Damon was one of those rare guys unafraid to talk about the things that bothered him. Emotions might have unhinged him from time to time, but he had learned not to hide from her, to come home in her arms.

The feeling of being there for the man you love, or caressing his cheek and running your fingers through his hair, that too was a feeling Elena had missed immensely in Damon's absence. It made being near him and drowning in his eyes all the more confronting.

"Elena?" Damon insisted softly. He'd given her some time to form the words to reply, but since she hadn't said a word he shifted a little closer.

"Elena?" he called again, an anxious undertone in his voice upon taking in her pained expression.

"Hey," he whispered soothingly, placing his hand onto her lower arm. "Are you ok?" he questioned warmly, his voice thick as he stroked his thumb up and down her skin.

The first tears fell from her eyes and Elena turned her gaze down, but Damon lifted her chin with his finger, leading her eyes back to his. "What's happening," he inquired, eyes wide and concerned.

"I-, I-, I can't think the things I think and-, and I can't feel the way I feel," Elena managed vaguely, trying to repress a sob. She felt selfish for still sitting in his sofa, but Damon was like a magnet, at this point she had no change of leaving his orbit.

"What are you talking about," Damon wondered out loud, his tone still warm and soothing.

"I'm being selfish," Elena uttered pained.

"You just gave my daughter the best evening she's had since her birthday, you are not selfish," Damon insisted.

"But I'm not Katherine and I can't-, I can't steal-" her chest heaved with her increased effort to get her breathing back under control, then she saw Damon's eyes widen and she panicked. _Who was she to insinuate she'd ever be anything more than his friends again_. They were not a couple so there wasn't even a problem yet. She was such a fool to allow her own head to start spinning…

"I'm sorry," Elena immediately interjected. "I didn't mean to assume-, I mean it's just me being tired, it's not like we ever kissed-, euhm I mean-"

Suddenly she saw how Damon leaned in, his lips nearing hers in slow motion. It was one of those moments in which she couldn't move. She knew she had to do something and get away, but she couldn't. She remained frozen.

Tenderly, Damon's lips met hers, conveying the exact same thing his eyes had been telling her all evening long. He cradled her cheek in his left hand and stroked her hair with his right one, willing her to surrender, to stop the thoughts wreaking havoc on her peace of mind.

It felt heavenly, to feel Damon's tongue slide across her lower lip, requesting entrance and relishing in the fact that it was granted. He kissed her passionately, then tenderly, refusing to relent before he'd felt he'd made up for at least some of the lost time. His breathing picked up audible when he felt Elena's fingers find the nape of his neck. As she tenderly traced her cheekbone with his finger, he rested his forehead against hers to calm down.

"It's been ages since you did that," Damon whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"Did what?" Elena questioned softly, her fingers still on his skin.

"Made me-, feel that," Damon managed, the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. The words were so simple, yet they carried so much meaning and Elena watched stunned. She hadn't expected Damon to be _that_ overcome. Falling back into their old routine, she shifted to his lap and wrapped her arms securely around him. It felt so familiar when Damon uttered the one word she'd been missing for over eleven years 'home'. _Home_. That had always been Damon's line. When she insisted that he was a fool for putting up with all her complications and insecurities, Damon would wave that away by stating that without her, he had no home. She was the only one around whom it felt ok for him to be himself.

"You can't ever leave again," Damon whispered against her skin.

"I-" Elena didn't finish her sentence, she just held him closely.

_I can't stay here forever either…_she mused ruefully in the back of her mind._  
Not forever… just until her mommy comes back._

_No. She could not turn into the kind of person she'd despised all her life._

**xXx**  
_But that was just a dream  
Try. Cry. Why. Try.  
That was just a dream.  
Just a dream, just a dream.  
Dream._

**xXx**

There is no single group in society we can label as evil, if only for the mere fact that there is variety among every group. One would have to admit however, that our perception of some groups is riddled with stereotypes and prejudices. Not everyone we meet gets the same clean start. It is unjust and irrational, but above all a common flaw among humans. And not one we can change overnight.

Stepmothers are a group of people who often start with a great disadvantage, especially if their new partner has teenage children. If those children are struggling with accepting their new reality and want nothing more than for life to go back to the way it used to be, that makes for an irreconcilable conflict of interest between the stepmom and them.

Often enough, animosity is a mere reflection of the fear of the unknown though, and we can make a difference by explaining that is not our goal to spin someone's world upside down and change everything they know and trust in their lives. Learning more about each other is the key to mutual understanding and the fastest way to diffuse fears. And sometimes, we may even be lucky enough to find an unexpected friend.

**xXx**

_And every whisper  
of every waking hour  
I'm choosing my confessions._


	14. Still

**xXx**

To play pretend. From time to time it can be nice to close one's eyes and think of an alternate universe, one where there's more respect and appreciation, or simply one where mothers in law are pleasant people and men notice when their wives wear something new. One can dream, they say…

Actually, there's more: one can study political science and discover that if one can convince themselves of the alternate universe, that alternate universe might become reality. This is what scholars call a self-fulfilling prophecy. Agreed, if one looks up that term, it's hardly ever used in positive context, but one can choose to ignore that. Let's play pretend.

**xXx**

_It's spiraling down  
Biting words like a wolf howling_

**xXx**

Three months earlier

"It's silent," Sophie noted out loud, swinging her feet over the side of her chair.

Her parents shot a quick glance at her, but resumed their occupations without forming a response.

"Lucia in my class has a sister, she always has someone to play with. It's never silent," Sophie remarked, watching her father who was busy making dinner.

"I like silence from time to time," Damon replied calmly, stirring the sauce he was preparing.

"I want a sister too," the little girl informed her parents nonetheless.

Katherine dropped the clothes she'd been folding on the kitchen table. "You don't," she retorted.

"I do!" Sophie disagreed.

"No you don't. Brothers and sisters take all the attention away from you, they will break your toys and make you miserable. You do not want a brother a or sister," Katherine argued.

Damon rolled his eyes at his wife. "Soph, parents can't really choose when and if they have a baby. Plus you never know if you'll get a brother or a sister and I don't think 'trying until it works' is a good approach here," he joked with a wink, "Imagine a house with five boys and not a single sister…" he mused.

"A brother is good too," Sophie replied. "Then he can play the daddy for my dolls," Sophie mused.

"There's one very unhealthy concept," Katherine retorted sardonically.

"And here I thought you had selected me as Olaf's father," Damon quickly intervened.

"No, you're his grandfather and mommy is his grandmother," Sophie explained. Katherine's face turned pale and Damon laughed out loud at his wife befuddled expression.

"Sweetheart, I am not yet 25 that is two decades too young to be anyone's grandmother!" she stipulated with vigour.

Sophie pouted. "Fine, than aunt Caroline can be grandma," she relented.

"That's equally perverted as-"

"Katherine, she's FOUR!" Damon effectively shut his wife up. "Don't be dramatic."

"Not possible," Katherine spoke determined.

"Then save the drama for story-time," he suggested.

Katherine rolled her eyes.

"Mommy, where do babies come from?" Sophie suddenly wondered out loud.

"They pop out of the gates of heaven, in a very painful and unceremonious way I might add," Katherine started.

Damon snickered upon seeing the confusion in his daughter's eyes, she was over a decade too young to get the metaphor. Luckily. "Gates of heaven, huh?" Damon repeated amused with his eyebrows raised in a comical way.

"What?" Katherine demanded. "I've never heard you complain," she taunted, arrogance dripping from her statement and the accompanying smirk.

Her husband's eyes widened and slid to Sophie, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"You grew in my tummy, darling," Katherine explained to her confused daughter.

The little girl tilted her head sideways with wide eyes. "How did I get in _there_?" she inquired astonished.

"You were a lot smaller and less chatty back then," Katherine clarified.

"But how? Was it magic?" the four-year-old wanted to know.

"If it's with me, it's always magic," Katherine whispered her daughter's way.

Damon blinked, trying to steer the conversation in a different way. "Objections, love?" Katherine questioned haughtily.

Her husband opened his mouth to comment and Katherine instantly regretted her choice of words, remembering the _ridiculous romantic connotations_ her husband connected to the word 'magic'.

"No, you don't get to object," she silenced him immediately. "It's not like our agreement serves some kind pubescent romantic fantasy," she voiced sternly, giving him a meaningful look. She made her way toward the living room. "I assume you can handle this conversation?" It was a rhetorical question before she closed the door behind her. They were a healthy and functional couple. Of course they were. _Let's play pretend_.

**xXx**

_Hate is spitting out each other's mouths  
But we're still sleeping like we're lovers_

**xXx**

Two fingers expertly unbuttoned his pants as Damon closed his eyes to avoid the smirk on his wife's face. She was gorgeous by any standards, red lipstick and red lace. Katherine was a wet dream, any man's fantasy… Yet what men tend to forget when they flip through exciting magazines, is that those women they love to watch, won't ever hold them close at night. They can lift you up and they can bring you to the stars, but then you'll be unceremoniously dropped back into reality, into a cold bed. Alone.

Even after all these years, Damon still didn't understand women's perpetual vicious and cornered response toward guys watching porn. Wasn't it common knowledge yet that guys knew the women in those pictures would never caress their cheeks gingerly or eye them like the universe revolved around them? And men did need that. Damon needed that. He'd been fooling himself for years thinking an exquisite physical fling would sustain him all his life. These days the smirk that used to arouse him was the biggest turn-off in his book. They'd done hot and erotic, hard, fast, kinky… They had tried it all. 'Well how about tender?', Damon couldn't help but wonder. _How about 'til kingdom come?_

With two hands sliding down, Damon reached his wife's fingers and enveloped them. He entwined hers with his and guided their hands closely between his body and hers, effectively drawing Katherine in until she had no choice but to rest upon his chest. She hastily broke their connection and dropped back to her initial position beside him. "Damon," she sighed irritated.

"Yeah," Damon replied softly.

"You know what…" Katherine insisted aggravated.

"But I want more," Damon voiced hesitantly.

"You're not a teenage girl," Katherine mocked.

"No, I'm your husband," Damon retorted.

"We are not _that_ kind of couple," Katherine argued.

"What if I want us to be?" Damon mused.

Katherine turned her head toward her husband and met his eyes, "That's doesn't magically happen, Damon…" Katherine tried to ground him softly. "We never loved each other like that, we're friends…"

Damon swallowed, hard. He knew. Deep down he had known all along that Katherine had never fallen in love with him, just like he'd never fallen in love with her, but to hear those words out loud was eerily disillusioning.

"What will it take for you to let me hold you?" Damon wondered out loud.

"Hold me how?" Katherine inquired puzzled.

"C-, close," Damon drew hesitantly, his eyes conveying what that word implied.

Katherine shuttered involuntarily. Her eyes left no doubt about the mental discomfort the conversation was immersing her in. "Chloroform," she deadpanned quickly.

Damon shook his head exasperated, rubbing the nape of his neck absentmindedly. "Then what are we doing?" he whispered hoarsely, his eyes void of their usual light.

"We are raising a daughter and we are not alone…" Katherine mused softly.

"It's not enough…" Damon uttered, it wasn't a wish as much as a sudden observation.

"It's all I've got," Katherine informed him wistfully.

"Because we've never tried," Damon started. "Neither of us ever believed in more, then how could it have possibly worked? Maybe if we cut out the sarcasm and the irony every once in a while and be normal, I could hold you… you know. I could-, care," Damon voiced, even though the words sounded awkward and foreign to his own ears. _Let's play pretend._

"Damon Salvatore and Katherine Pierce, cuddling and in love…" his wife mused. "Please tell me that sounds as weird to you as it does to me?" she mocked playfully.

Damon blinked, unsure of how to answer. "We do care, Damon," Katherine stated meaningfully, as it dawned on her that this was not something Damon could let go. "We just care in a different way," she amended, her fingers were already trailing back to his waistline.

If he could only kiss her in a way that would get her blood truly pumping, touch her in ways that wouldn't just arouse her but warm her enough to unfreeze her… He couldn't voice those thoughts out loud though, since he knew she didn't appreciated anything cheesy. Still, desperate times… Damon turned them over so he was leaning above her, he held her hands connected with his above her head. There she lay, defenceless, eyes questioning. Gingerly, Damon whispered a kiss onto the sensitive skin between the red lace. Her chest. His eyes met hers.

"Sometimes I wish that could thaw your heart," he whispered.

"What heart?" Katherine huffed, shuffling out from underneath him. The look she gave him was one of utter disappointment. They were done for the night.

**xXx**

_Still with feet touching  
Still with eyes meeting  
Still our hands match  
Still with hearts beating_

**xXx**

Present day

_"You can't ever leave again," Damon whispered against her skin._

_"I-" Elena didn't finish her sentence, she just held him closely._

"I can't stay here forever either," Elena voiced barely above a whisper, stopping the debate in her head.

"What do you mean?" Damon inquired hoarsely.

She had to be honest. It would be quite unforgivable for her to hide the truth once more after her first attempt to protect Damon without his knowledge and, more importantly, against his will. It wasn't her job to shelter him, it was her job to be trustworthy. The issue was fairly simple now: had she learned her lesson or not?

Damon had a right to know this time. Damon had a right to have a say. Moreover Damon had the right to ask for her loyalty, this time the decision had to be his. The correct approach was simple. Simple even though it wasn't easy. Honesty. Damon needed her. This was her chance to prove herself.  
Or not.

"Sophie misses her mother," Elena began. "She asked for my phone to call her," she admitted, deciding not to beat around the bush.

"She did?" Damon asked incredulously.

Elena nodded.

"Damn."

Damon rose to his feet, slightly dazed. He seemed to move aimlessly before standing still in front of the great living room window. "Damn," he whispered again, running his hand through his raven hair as he allowed Elena's words to sink in.

"Does that surprise you?" Elena tried tentatively.

Damon shook his head, staring straight ahead into the invisible garden. Elena watched how he opened his mouth and closed it again, Damon himself wasn't even aware of his reflection in the window.

"I tried," he voiced after a moment. "I. Tried. Like. Hell." He shook his head and paused before continuing. "Sophie might not have been part of a plan, but the second I held her in my arms every priority shifted. You can't imagine how profoundly it alters your life… but the day you become a parent, that's your first responsibility: being a parent." He held his head up higher again, gazing into the distance.

"I spent six years with a woman I did not love and I haven't brought a single woman to my bedroom ever since she left. The past weeks, I've had no social life, I haven't gotten drunk, I haven't gone out. Nothing. I was always here, tucking Sophie in, because she can't sleep when I'm not in the same house…" Damon's voice trailed off and Elena watched him pained, rising to her feet once it dawned on her that he wasn't coming back.

"No deep conversation, no venting about my day, I've spent my weeks waking up at 2AM to change the covers of her wet bed with a comforting smile, because that's my job, Elena, to protect my daughter. And now you're telling me in no mistakable terms that I can't? It doesn't matter whether I bend myself over backwards, does it? It takes two parents to build her a home, but only one to mess it all up!" Damon ranted, rubbing his fingers harder until the back of his neck turned bright red.

"Damon, the fact that Katherine isn't here does not diminish what you mean to your daughter, or how important your care toward her has been. Quite the contrary actually," Elena voiced softly, moving to stand next to him. "You can't shelter Sophie from all the pain in the world, it's an impossible mission."

"Well, I can try," Damon snapped, the tremor in his voice unmistakable. Elena had no quick retort causing silence to fill the room. Damon closed his eyes momentarily. For the first time in ages he felt vulnerable. He didn't need that. It was ironic how for

he'd assumed that these were the moments when he longed most for Elena, and now she was finally there he felt uncomfortable losing control in front of her. He tilted his head away from her, blocking her out. If he didn't see her than she wasn't there. They weren't there. _Let's play pretend_.

Nothing could block her out though, he felt her presence, felt her patience. He felt her calm and caring eyes on him, waiting for him to recover. His teeth gritted together, but then he swallowed, losing the final snippet of control over his façade. He pressed the back of his fingers painfully hard to his mouth, attempting to stifle any possible sound, yet his intake of air broke the silence, giving him away.

The hands that rose, rubbing his eyes red, weren't too subtle either. Damon silently hoped that it could be passed off as him being tired, still he refused to meet Elena's eyes in the reflection in the window. She would know. He knew she would. The worst part was that this wasn't him, this was not what he wanted her to see after a decade of separation. He was strong and brave, he single-handedly ran his family, and a great part of Ric's company. Damon Salvatore hadn't shed a tear since his daughter's birth.

When Damon felt Elena's hand search for his, he quickly pulled it out of reach, they weren't doing that. He wasn't allowing it.

"Damon, it's ok." Elena whispered. Damon gave no reply, not trusting his voice. He shook his head curtly and regained control over his breathing. There. Nothing happened. _Let's play pretend._

"Damon, look at me…" Elena requested softly. "Please, face me…"

Damon locked his law.

"Damon, we've wasted so much time already. This will never work if you can't trust me. There is no bad blood between us, neither of us said or did anything regretful tonight… This is the point where _you_ choose how the evening will end…" Elena stated determinedly.

Damon tilted his head hesitantly her way, she simply stepped in, allowing him to envelope her in his arms. One of her arms was holding onto his back, while the other rested tenderly on his chest, her head was tucked underneath his chin.

"I'm not usually like this," Damon spoke in his defense.

Elena huffed slightly, shaking her head against his chest. "I already know who you are…" she whispered. "And for the record: I like you like that."

"But I'm honestly not-"

"Sensitive?" Elena completed with her eyebrows raised. When she felt Damon's hands still on her back, she quickly added: "No deep conversation, no venting about your day. You might have taken great care of Sophie the past weeks… months… Damon, but at some point someone has to take care of you too. You deserve a moment to breathe, Damon, otherwise you crash."

"I've missed you," Damon whispered, the words even more true than ever before. As his eyes met hers, all Elena read was sincerity.

"I've missed you too," Elena returned, holding onto him closely.

**xXx**

Still with feet touching  
Still with eyes meeting  
Still our hands match  
Still with hearts beating

**xXx**

In the meantime on the other side of town

It was almost ten o'clock in the evening by the time Elijah finally closed his office door. It was the evening before a long weekend, yet he'd been working late again. His company was working on an important court case and there was a lot of work to be done. Naturally, as CEO of his own company, it was well within Elijah's power to push the late nights onto someone else. He wasn't that kind of boss though. Since he demanded respect from his employees, he saw it as his primary objective to be worthy of that respect.

"Miss, I'm going to have to alert the police now," Elijah heard his guard, Felix, warn in the distance as he approached the hallway.

"Miss, if you don't stop NOW-," Felix announced. Suddenly there was the clicking of high heels moving fast, coming his way, followed by heavy footsteps trying to catch up. Elijah stopped and patiently waited around the corner. The second the footsteps reached him, he stepped forward, blocking the way.

A young woman stumbled and Elijah caught her by the arm, keeping her from falling. She regained balance disoriented. "Are you alright?" Elijah asked politely.

The woman nodded and Felix pulled out his phone. "I'm calling the cops," he announced.

"No! Please don't!" the woman pleaded. Felix didn't pay attention to her wailing.

"I have a child, I_'m in a divorse, _I'll lose custody!" The woman quickly announced panicked. "Please, Sir," she practically begged Elijah. He held his hand up for Felix to stop dialling.

"Who are you?" The confused CEO questioned.

"Euhm… Stella Van Pelt," the woman announced.

Elijah pulled his phone out and typed the name in. "Wrong. Now try for a name with a matching Facebook profile picture," he demanded unimpressed.

"Lucia Pierce," Katherine stated, after which a screen with an unrecognizable profile picture was pushed into her hands. "Log in," the man in front of her ordered.

"What?" she questioned.

"You just broke in, you tried to run once already. If you manage to escape, I'll need your identity. So either you find a proper way to identify yourself, like a profile with a picture of you, you have the password to, or I have no option but to alert the authorities," Elijah explained. "And duly note that you better get it right this time, one more lie and your borrowed time is up. Are we clear on that miss-"

"Pierce-," the woman in front of him reluctantly admitted. "Katherine Pierce-Salvatore."

The CEO nodded and extended his hand. "Elijah Mikaelson, _nice_ to meet you," he spoke, his tone even slightly amused.

"Sure," Katherine replied, eying him wearily. She'd read somewhere that Elijah was a man of principles, one of those principles was his profound belief in second chances. Meeting his kind, yet determined eyes, she found herself wondering how far that curtsey extended.

"Mister Mikaelson, I'm not sure this is a good idea," Felix told him boss anxiously.

"Neither am I, Felix," Elijah commented dryly, "but without faith in humanity, this world is becoming increasingly more hostile. Let's hear her out, shall we?" he suggested. Before even turning around he could feel Katherine's smirk behind him. "Yet we'd be fools to blindly trust those who break the law. So be warned Miss Pierce, my patience is wearing thin, and if your explanation is not truthful and expedient you will leave me no choice but to alert the authorities. Do you understand?" he spoke thoughtfully, only turning his visitor's way when announcing the last line.

Katherine nodded, slightly taken aback by the formality with which he spoke. It was soon becoming clear to her that Mister Mikaelson's principles would not always work in her favour.

"Very well then, after you," he spoke, waving his hand in front of his body to signal the right direction. It didn't escape Katherine how this conveniently placed him between her and the only available exit.

**xXx**

_It's spiraling down  
Biting words like a wolf howling_

**xXx**

"Better?" Elena questioned softly, taken the empty glass of water away from Damon and back onto the table. Damon nodded. They were sitting next to one another in the sofa. Damon's hand was resting behind Elena's back, barely touching her shoulder.

"Please tell me you're not serious about stepping aside just because of Katherine," Damon suddenly inquired, the thought had been haunting him ever since she told him about Sophie. "Am I mistaken when I assumed you were going to give this a try?"

When no reply came, Damon's eyes grew weary, "Elena?" he called her attention.

"It's not that simple," Elena argued. "I don't think you understand…" she added much softer.

"And I think you think too much. There is nothing _to_ understand," Damon retorted. "Katherine left weeks ago, what kind of doting mother would do that do her child? And even if she plans on returning, we are never _ever_ getting back to getter," Damon stressed.

A small smile played across Elena's lips. "What?" Damon demanded confused.

"Nothing… You just- well you just quoted Taylor Swift," she informed him.

Damon rolled his eyes at her and pulled her close, until her shoulder shifted in front of his and he had her leaning against his chest. A deep sigh escaped Elena's lips and she sank deeper into him, breathing in his scent as it enveloped her.

"You're not stepping aside," Damon stated softer. It wasn't a question this time and Elena allowed the statement to linger for a few more seconds. _Let's play pretend_.

"When I was fifteen my parents broke up…" Elena broke the silence. "They broke up because a woman I never knew nor met decided to persuade my father into cheating on my mom," she continued. "I don't know how long they were together, but she kept seeing him during my mother's pregnancy and even after I was born, all because she wanted to have what my mother had. In the end everyone ended up tortured and alone. I will not be that woman, I never planned on stealing Katherine's life," Elena mused.

"Don't you see that you did not? If anything, she took what could have been yours. You were first!" Damon argued.

"No, I _messed up first_. There's a different. Katherine was your wife for six years, and she's been a mother to Sophie-"

"She has n-"

"Damon, I know you," Elena broke off his protest. "If she truly threatened Sophie's happiness at any point you would have _never_ stayed with her. The fact that you two never separated only proves that you thought Sophie needed her in her life," Elena quickly brought in.

"So I should be stuck in a loveless marriage forever then? And you'll just leave as you did before?" Damon questioned incredulously.

"I won't be the woman that _forces_ herself upon a child. I'm not going to play house and pretend like Katherine does not exist. I know how it works, two people fall in love and then decide that the children have to get with the program. It's not enough, it's not that simple. No matter how much I'll care about her or she'll care about me, it won't change the fact that a part of her will miss Katherine. I wish my best intentions would be enough here, but they're not, Damon… Not in this case." Elena whispered.

"Then what is, huh?" Damon wanted to know.

"Talking _openly_ about her mother, giving her a chance to process what's happening. Censorship has no place in a home, Damon, and neither does denigration. Do you have any idea what your vicious comments about Katherine are doing to your daughter? Indoctrination is not a part of parenting, Damon. Be her father, trust her to make up her own mind…"

"And what do you suggest I do when Katherine breaks her?" Damon questioned, raising his voice.

"Then you'll be there to pick her up and wipe the tears away," Elena said simply. "And you will know that you tried," she added softly.

_Damon shook his head mechanically, he knew she wasn't taunting him. This was what she truly believed. A conviction, sturdily anchored in her past. "It's not fair," he mused._

_"But it is the right thing to do," the woman he loved spoke. As hard as the words hit him, as soft were her fingers trailing over his skin. Deep down he knew that in her heart she felt the same way he did. In their hearts there were no more complications, merely patience and longing for the moment they'd figure it out. Damon kissed her shoulder, tenderly wiping her hair to the side with his fingers. "We'll figure it out," he promised. "This time we will__."_

**xXx**

To play pretend, it's not unhealthy. Moreover, it's a valid research method in comparative politics, although they call it 'counterfactuals' there to make it sound more sciency. "What if Machiavelli had never been born? What if Hitler had been aborted?"

It can be good to play pretend. It can give you new insights or just some momentary peace of mind. It can be a wonderful escapism to close one's eyes and fall asleep in a new world. The only relevant issue is whether or not you're able to open up your eyes and deal with reality again.

**xXx**

_Two feet standing on a principle  
Two hands longing for each other's warmth  
Darkness falling, leaves nowhere to go_

**xXx**


	15. Take me to Church

**xXx**

_I'll tell you my sins  
… and you can sharpen your knives._**  
xXx**

_Baffled, mind blown, awestruck._  
It sounds so _very_ tempting, we're practically indoctrinated to yearn for it.  
The promise of release, of soaring under the wings of a higher power.  
That moment when light is blinding and a calm fills our minds.  
Still more and more often people appear to refrain…

Others don't. They'll do exactly what they've read and learned for that shimmering hope of nirvana, the ultimate reward. A reward in the form of a concept we cannot properly describe, yet people appear to understand all over the globe. Deathless death, or as some men preach 'the reason for life'.

_Men, indeed. Female priests still aren't allowed in the world's largest religious community, remember?_ Religion, a magical handbook that makes sense of the world. It sounds so very tempting, doesn't it?

**xXx**

_My Church offers no absolutes  
She tells me, 'Worship in the bedroom'.  
The only heaven I'll be sent to  
Is when I'm alone with you-_

**_xXx_**

"We'll figure it out," Damon promised. "This time we will."

Elena didn't say anything, she remained in his arms, safe from harm, safe from judgment. Up to this point, that was something Damon hadn't taken into account yet. Judgment. Was it even morally acceptable for them to be a couple? What about his vows? And what about the judgment closer to home. _What would the neighbors think?_

"I can't stay over tonight," Elena sighed in a whisper.

"And why not?" Damon inquired, whispering a kiss against the exposed skin of her neck.

"People will see my car and they'll talk. I don't know what we are yet, I'm not ready to weather the storm of accusations," Elena explained.

"It's not their decision, Elena, you can figure things out here in my arms. I'm not going anywhere…" He stroked his thumb along her cheek, tilting her head to find her questioning eyes. "Hey…" he uttered soothingly, eyes honest and open, "I'm not going to push you into anything. You don't have to make up your mind and we can simply sit and talk. But I just don't want you to leave… as a friend," he added quickly.

"But you were married, you're not going to cheat, especially not with me," Elena insisted.

"Katherine wants a divorce, she's made that abundantly clear the last time I saw her," Damon retorted.

"Then I'll stay over when you two make it official," Elena urged.

"She's left me weeks ago and has refused to reply to any emails or texts ever since, how much more prove do you need?" Damon inquired incredulously.

"Our colleagues don't know that, Ric doesn't even know all of it. People will look at me as if I'm your mistress, breaking up your marriage! I know you're not up to speed with social norms, but the seventh commandment is still a thing, you know…" Elena drew.

"The seventh commandment?" Damon repeated mockingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery… Does that ring any bells, Mister Salvatore?" Elena clarified, shaking her head. Damon rolled his eyes. "It's not adultery, it's moving on."

"Yes, I'm sure your mother will see it that way when she gets to explain it to her high society friends," Elena muttered, irony dripping from her words. "Ha." Damon smirked. "All the more incentive!" "Ow, grow up!" Elena commented, running her hand loosely through his raven locks, ruffling it a bit.

"Stop it," Damon complained. Yet he only took her hand in his after she was done, he couldn't deny that he'd missed those little signs of affection. Their eyes met and Elena smirked, before snuggling closely against his chest again.

"What's the punishment?" Damon inquired after a while.

"The what?" Elena questioned confused.

"The punishment for breaking the seventh commandment?" Damon wondered out loud.

Elena thought about that for a moment, but she came up blank. "No heaven, I suppose?" she guessed.

"I could make up for that you know…" Damon drew suggestively.

"How?" Elena wondered. "Oh. Damon!" The snickering blue-eyed man behind her ducked as her hand flew to the back of his head. She missed. Damon, in turn, took full advantage of the fact that her arm was no longer rested by her side and tickled her. She shrieked adorably, making him smile from ear to ear.

"Damon stop! S-, S-, Sto, STOP!" she tried to compose herself enough to come across as demanding, yet that turned out to be very hard. A part of her was baffled by his audacity. Still, she couldn't conjure up enough self-control to make him stop. In the meantime Damon refused to relinquish his hold on her. "Da-, Damon please, I ca-, can't breathe," she pleaded.

The torture lasted for about three more seconds before his fingers ceased to move and he pulled her tightly into his chest, enveloping her safely in his arms. It was a magical feeling, holding her tightly while she caught her breath. He felt her chest heave within his hold.

"What are you? Five?" Elena demanded irritated, bursting his happy bubble.

Damon pouted.

"Tickling…" Elena made a face, although she did relent by giving him a small smile. "We're not two teenagers in love, you know?" she mocked him for his childish behavior.

"No. We missed that part," Damon voiced, changing the mood with four little words. It was impossible to miss the heavy undercurrent accompanying Damon's wistful sentiment.

Elena opened her mouth and closed it again. Not ever comment needed a reply, sometimes people just had to get something off their chests.

"I can tickle you when I want to… And you can sleep over when you want to. I don't care about the social norms and I don't care how others interpreted the values I share. I'm not a cheater, I wouldn't do that. I think you know that. But this isn't cheating from where I stand," Damon stated firmly.

"Others might not see it that way, Damon," Elena drew, tip-toeing her fingers along the length of the arm that was draped across her body.

"Others…" Damon mused. "Others have threesomes and one-night-stands, mistresses, lovers, lies… If we'd punish every human who's ever sinned, the overpopulation in the world would be fixed." Damon huffed. "There wouldn't be anyone left…"

"God…" Elena pondered.

"Yeah, perhaps," Damon agreed. "Then maybe mom and our neighbors can have a little patience and a little more faith and wait until their God punishes me," Damon deadpanned. "I wouldn't mind. If he's really that perfect, than I guess it's his right. But the rest of them, they're just as human and just as flawed as we are. They don't get to judge, it's not their job," Damon decided, resting his head on Elena's chin. He felt a hand come down on top of his, enveloping his fingers tenderly. He knew it was her way of telling him he shouldn't beat himself up. She knew nothing rendered him more irritated than the thought of his mother's judgment.

"Speaking of moral high ground," Damon broke the silence, "you being in my daughter's live, wouldn't be the worst thing either," Damon brought up tentatively, catching her hand before she caught pull back.

"Damon, I won't be anyone's stepmother. I already told you," Elena insisted again.

"You'd do an excellent job at it…" Damon tested the waters.

"There is no 'excellent' in that category," Elena retorted agitatedly.

"There is…" Damon drew, wrapping both his arms around her chest again. "I know people who've adopted children; men, stepping in for deceased fathers; new families, in which the children love their stepmother… It doesn't always have to be bad," Damon explained.

Elena shook her head before muttering the cliché "You don't understand."

"Don't understand what, Elena? There are various different situations…"

"But you've never lived through it!" Elena bit back. "You were never alone in a room at night, watching the stars, crying because you missed your mother and hoping she was watching those same stars. It doesn't matter who tucks you in then! There's no replacing a mother!" Elena snapped. "Your daughter will hate me, and she'll be right!"

"No. There's no replacing a person…" Damon corrected softly. "Katherine will always be irreplaceable to her, but so will I, so will Rick, and so can you be one day…" he offered. "My daughter has no reason to hate you, not when you mean so well."

Elena shook her head in disagreement. This subject wasn't up for discussion. There was no room for a second opinion in her mind. She'd never considered befriending any of her stepmothers. From her point of view, warmth or kindness were optional when it came to 'the women' her father 'chose to bed'. It wasn't as if she had chosen to be tossed back and forth between parents. Had she?

She already had a mother, no need for another woman's advice, Elena had always told herself. Acting bratty towards women who were out the take her mother's place, wasn't mean, it was self-defense. It wasn't like she was the one invading their homes with impossible rules, it was definitely the other way around, she pondered ironically. For years she had used that excuse to justify her actions. "Not when you mean well…" Damon's words lingered.

Had she ever considered that a factor? Had she ever been any less troublesome towards those who had 'meant well'? Should she have? No, Damon was wrong. An automatic coping mechanism sprung to action in her mind as it conjured up the valid reasons to dismiss his opinion on the subject. Different religion? No. Different generation? No. Different culture? No. Different past? The options raced through her head until she would something viable. A deep breath left Elena's lips. If you searched hard enough there was always a reason to safeguard your own opinion.

**xXx**

_Something meaty for the main course  
That's a fine looking high horse_

**xXx**

"So?" Elijah spoke. He placed his hands on his desk, leaning slightly over his forearms as he stood. "How did you end up in our building, Miss Pierce?" he inquired, relinquishing his hold on the smooth surface and taking place before the woman in front of him.

"I slipped in behind a woman with a badge, _Elijah_. Perhaps your security system isn't as air tight as you hoped it would be," Katherine replied swiftly.

Elijah grimaced. "Perhaps," he allowed. "So, why were you breaking into my company, Miss?" he inquired. He saw her eyes glace to her left and quickly added, "And do feel free to tell me the truth, you didn't go wandering off by accident, you were inspecting personal files on my employees and clients. One more lie and I'm going home to catch up on Game of Thrones," he warned, meeting her eyes.

Katherine grimaced, a fake pleasant smile forced on her lips. She could hardly admit that she was stalking Mikaelson's ex-girlfriend, given their amicable break-up, so she inhaled deeply to clear her mind. She had to think fast.

"I-," Katherine started. Elijah watched her intently, silently urging her to continue. "I'm stuck in a very complicated custody battle…" Katherine explained. "I made mistakes… It-, it doesn't look so good on paper," Katherine drew. "I don't really stand a chance in court, my husband has money, my daughter, and enough stories to make me look-, very unfit," she decided. "I was just checking personal files, looking for a good lawyer," Katherine finished, avoiding his eyes on purpose now.

"So you break into a company, find the personal files, and go through all this trouble to find information you could have very well looked up online?" Elijah inquired, raising his eyebrow.

"I didn't need public records, Mister Mikaelson… I needed dirt…" she amended, looking straight into his eyes now, the conviction in her words hitting him full force. _That technique always worked_.

"Dirt?" Elijah inquired.

"You're a top firm, Mister Mikaelson… Lawyers like yours are not within my budget, but they're the only ones that can help me fix this mess. I can never win my case with a small-town family attorney, not when he has to go up against the _Salvatore family friends_," Katherine drew, wrinkling her nose. "I don't stand a chance," she stated.

"But what exactly did you hope to accomplish by finding dirt on my people, were you planning on… _blackmailing_ them… into taking your case?" Elijah concluded surprised. Katherine broke eye-contact again, fidgeting purposefully with her fingers, then biting her lip. Men had a thing for the damsel-in-distress kind, it made them feel like they had purpose.

She knew she was incriminating herself, but in this case she had no option. The best lies were and would always be the ones that incriminated you a little. On top of that, people were more inclined to forgive mistakes they could understand or even empathize with. It was well within her power to come across as convincing. And perhaps he'd even take pity on her, and she could find herself a lawyer after all. Her lie hadn't been completely made up, she was merely mixing two different stories. She had to, he couldn't know the truth.

**xXx**

_I was born sick, but I love it.  
Command me to be well._

**xXx**

"Look, I know you're Sophie's father and you hate Katherine, but Katherine will always be important to Sophie and I'll always be second best," Elena decided.

Damon had an amused expression on his face, irritating Elena.

"What?" she all but snapped, the subject made her feel very uncomfortable.

Damon ran his fingers along her arms, calming her. "Nothing, it's just… You're always preaching open-mindedness, seeing the world from all perspectives, yet here you go, only seeing the black and white, good or bad…" Damon mused. Elena crossed her arms over her chest, opening her mouth to protest.

"Don't say that I don't understand!" Damon warned quickly. "I'm so sick of women quoting that line. It's not reasonable, it doesn't leave any reply. It's just the same as saying '_you don't get to have an opinion here'_. And that's fine when it's Caroline complaining about having her period, but this is _our relationship_ we're talking about. _I do have an opinion_," Damon spoke with vigour.

Elena had a string of words on the tip of her tongue, but she knew she was feeling emotional and slightly irrational. She didn't want to screw them up so she kept quiet.

"Moreover you keep telling me that I'm important to you, that I'm the one who understands you, the one you trust. Is that all some cheesy nonsense you feel obliged to make up?" Damon questioned. "Does my opinion cease to matter the second it clashes with yours?"

"N-, no! Of course not!" Elena retorted.

"Fine, then here's an occurrence in which we disagree. Feel free to decide if _how I feel_ should be discussed or dismissed. I believe this is where we find out how genuine you-"

"Stop," Elena interrupted, she didn't want to fight. "I'm ready to hear it…" she murmured.

Damon inhaled sharply and collected himself. He couldn't help how his mind started racing from time to time. This was one of those moments where it dawned on him that the mutual trust between them wasn't cemented the way it used to be yet. He wasn't always capable to keep the creeping insecurities and involuntary worst-case-scenario-thinking at bay.

"Caroline missed me," Damon broke the silence. "Not my mother… Me," he mused. "I guess it's true that for most kids it's their mom and dad they need, but no one ordered that it always has to be that way. Some children have three parents, some four, some feel about their grandparents or siblings the way you feel about your mother. There is no maximum of two on a child's heart, especially not Sophie's," Damon explained.

"You'll never be the one who gave birth to her, I know that," Damon stressed. "But that doesn't mean you can't be the one she calls when she's learned to ride a bike, or the one she hugs before she goes to sleep," he suggested.

Elena nodded, wrapping her mind around his words.

"Better?" Damon checked.

"Better," Elena confirmed with a smile. Damon's fingers lingered on her shoulder, caressing the sensitive skin right behind it. Elena's eyes fell shut as the feeling washed over her. She loved it when he did that, it was such a tender gesture.

"Goosebumps," Damon whispered, Elena could hear the smile in his voice. "That still feels good, huh?" he mused with a genuine smile, trailing his fingers further to length of her neck and back.

"Hmmm." He didn't get much of a coherent response, only a satisfying intake of air as he found the right spot. Their previous conversation had moved mysteriously to the back of their minds.

The chuckle from Damon's lips was barely audible, still the way Elena's eyes fluttered open and searched for his, proved that she hadn't missed it.

"Back when you were 15, you used to shudder when I did that," Damon voiced, lost in a memory.

"No. When we were sneaking around that day at the pool, _then_ I used to shutter," Elena corrected. "From _cold_ of course," she mocked, laughing at Damon's disappointed pout.

"You always dragged me out of the water. You made me wait on the freezing staircase to the slide, remember? And all of that just so no one would see us together…" Elena pondered.

"Oh, I do remember," Damon replied, wiggling his eyebrows. "You were wearing the most heavenly bikini I'd ever seen, and you had your hair dripping wet, water trailing down your collarbone, to the middle…" Damon's voice trailed off and so did his fingers, setting her skin on fire as he traced the path he had been denied at the time.

It was funny how his body acted on its own accord when he was around her, without alcohol. Dating had never been that easy or comfortable with anyone else. Damon blushed slightly remembering how often he'd sat next to a girl wondering where he should rest his arms or how he should caresses her. With Elena he didn't have to over-think anything, his body remembered her.

His finger gingerly made its way back. _Everything in due time_. He barely touched her as his hands ghosted of her body, her breathing picked up momentarily, her senses sprung to live. She felt his breath on her skin as he leaned in to kiss her neck, the rain drip-dropped on the roof in the distance, making his arms feel all the more warm and safe to her.

"I loved that day at the pool, the feeling of you pressed against me when the slide would launch us deep into the water. It was like we were inside our own bubble and the world had ceased to exist…" Damon whispered against her skin. "It was so hard whenever we had to let go to catch our breaths…"

"I know" Elena voiced softly, lost in the same memory. "I used to fall asleep replaying that afternoon in my head. I was fifteen, still mesmerized by how well two bodies could fit together… Every curve finding its matching piece…"

As Damon leaned in to touch his lips softly to her collarbone, she unconsciously secured her hold on his tight, dragging her nails over his jeans. Damon's head tilted backwards reflexively. When Elena smoothed her fingers out again, she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Would you like to go upstairs?" Damon voiced rather hoarsely, a mixture of emotions carried along with the words. Nervousness, eagerness, lust, vulnerability. He almost took them back, fearing the sting of rejection. "Hmm," Elena replied, allowing him to raise them both to their feet.

**xXx**

_Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life._

**xXx**

"Trespassing, spying, blackmailing…" Elijah summed up, "What am I supposed to do with you?" he wondered out loud.

Katherine stared at the hands in her lap, hoping that her acting innocent could save her from the storm. She hadn't been truly dishonest earlier, if Mikaelson alerted the police, she was indeed losing her daughter. That mattered. Even when all other things failed to make sense to her, the only fact that remained was that she'd do everything for Sophie, no matter the cost. It was exactly that, which had gotten her in trouble in the first place…

When Damon had denied her of all contact with her daughter, Katherine had seen no alternative then to pick the little girl up from school. She had relished in the time they'd spend together, still there had been the constant reminder that she'd lost touch of the little girl's preferences and rituals. Her husband hadn't… _"Daddy uses two straws, mommy… I wish daddy were here too… Look, a piglet, daddy loves those… Are we going home to daddy soon? … Daddy always ties my shoelaces twice."_

It hadn't mattered how much Katherine had loathed Damon that day, or how betrayed she'd felt the day she'd left the house in tears. Deep down she knew Sophie hadn't been ready to spend the weekend with her, away from her father. The little girl needed her daddy as much as Katherine had needed her… So at the end of the day, she had driven Sophie back without a word. Katherine was selfish, bratty and bitchy, but she was also the little girl's mother.

No one cared about that story though, no one would ever see it for what it had been. The police had labelled it as _reckless behaviour_. Maybe it had been, she had ploughed through mud on high heels because her daughter loved the animal farm… But no one saw how she'd returned her, not because she could stand to miss her child again, but because it was what was best for Sophie. Just like it had been best to leave Sophie with Damon that day she had cried her eyes out on their bedroom floor. She had been in no state to take the little girl under her care, not in between the first tears she'd shed in over fifteen years. Yet all it had gotten her was a restraining order until the trail. Protecting your child from your tears and pain wasn't good parenting, it was '_reckless'_.

"I just need my daughter…" Katherine murmured.

"I don't need your clients or your people, I don't want to bring your company down. I need a way get _shared custody_. I need to be in my daughter's live," Katherine stated firmly, spelling it out for him as if her were five.

"Why?" Elijah inquired, provoking her.

Katherine huffed incredulously.

"Why?" Elijah repeated.

"Because I _love her_ of course…" Katherine retorted angrily, shaking her head at him as if he were an utter disappointment.

Elijah took in her appearance, the polished nails, the bored look, the display of emotions that appeared nothing more than a pitiful act. The way she had uttered the words before hadn't convinced him, moreover: her act didn't add up… One moment she appeared all nervous and vulnerable, the next she was being smug. She was playing him, yet he couldn't figure out to what extent.

"Forgive me, but you don't seem like the motherly type, miss Pierce, one second you're fidgeting with the seam of your top and a second later you deadpan irritated, all frailness gone… You had me at first, I'll give you that, but consistency isn't your best friend, is it? You might need to work on that while I take care of our security system…" Elijah remarked, referring to her smug comment earlier. He couldn't figure her out, the mixture of coldness and desperation. The woman in front of him was putting on a mask, the question was what part of her she was hiding.

"What do you want?" Katherine drew. "Do you need me to sob. And cry. And _run_ _my mascara_ for you? Is that your thing? Is that what gets you _going_?" she bit back angrily, lowering her eyes until they found the zipper of his jeans, taunting him, enunciating every word meticulously.

The venom in her words didn't go unnoticed by Elijah. _Emotions_. Real ones this time, he noted with a small smile. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.

**xXx**

_In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene,  
only then I am Human  
Only then I am Clean._

**xXx**

Walking down the hallways upstairs, Damon first checked his daughter's room. He kissed Sophie's forehead before gently closing her door. Elena watched from his doorframe, uncertain about entering his room before him. Damon smiled as he neared her, pecking her on the lips as his hand trailed from her shoulder down her arm, and eventually to her lower back, where it rested as he guided her inside. The room was dimly lit by moonlight as they entered.

Once the door was closed behind them, Damon switched on the small bedside lamp, it casted a warm glow over the sober furniture. The smell of fresh laundry welcomed Elena as her eyes took in the neatly made bed. It didn't surprise her, though, the entire house had been clean and organized.

Before she could give the rest of the room much consideration, Damon's lips were on hers again. Giving Elena a tour was a waste of his time. As he'd seen her scan the bed however, he had been very pleased that every trance of his ex had been long erased. Clothes, pictures and other trivia had been moved to the guestroom weeks ago already. This room was exclusively his.

Elena's lips kissed his hungrily as his fingers tangled in her hair. He gently moved the two of them backwards until the back of her knees reached the frame of his bed. He held onto her gently, guiding her ever so tenderly until she was lying down. She looked like his personal fantasy, resting on top of his favourite bed sheets. He moved down with her, though still supporting his weight.

Her lips were nipping the sensitive skin of his neck when he felt her unbutton the top of his shirt. He sensed his heart-rate pick up, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and then her lips found the hollow of his throat. Her fingers explored his skin while the tip of her tongue found the delicate skin behind his ear. With her mouth so near, her ragged breathing sounded a million times louder then he'd ever heard it before. It was the biggest turn on he could imagine. On top of that it felt heavenly to have her touch and tease him so uninhibited. The last time they'd had their fun she'd been 15, tentative and nervous. Every phase had its charm. Thought regardless of how perfect she had felt a decade ago, this mature side of her suited him just fine.

"This-, is-, incredible," Damon managed, bringing her lips close enough to claim them in another passionate kiss. Elena smirked before she leaned away again, and the lights in her eyes lit up Damon's world as she started trailing down kisses along the centre of his chest. Half the buttons were undone so far and Elena quickly resumed her handiwork.

Suddenly, there it was, a flicker of nervousness in Damon's eyes as Elena looked up again. Damon willed the tiny hint of insecurity from his mind, there was no need, he knew. Still… The last time she'd undressed him, he'd been eighteen and an athlete. He was aware that he was still good looking, better in shape than most men his age, yet the second he felt Elena pop the final button, he held his breath instinctively. Then suddenly there were her lips closed over the skin of his abdomen in silent acceptation. Sometimes gestures did mean so much more than words…

**xXx  
**_No Masters or Kings  
When the Ritual begins  
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_

**xXx**

_Baffled, mind blown, awestruck._  
People find calm and release in all sorts of ways, various beliefs, values, traditions. Who are we to withhold anyone or judge anyone, based on personal preferences? Freedom of worship, regardless of whether you prefer to pray in a church, a mosque, a synagogue _or in your very bedroom_.

All religions appear to be rather in agreement over the '_God_ will judge or punish and reward'-part, so as long as we're only human, perhaps we shall refrain from those and have a little faith and patience that God will eventually take care of those we deem 'blasphemists'?

Whoever grounds you, makes you have faith and brings you calm is worth believing in. Everyone deserves that security in their lives. But let's not forget to extend that same courtesy to others. Tolerance is such a wonderful quality.


	16. Stood up for love

xXx

_I give my heart and soul to the one…_

**xXx**

Perfection. It's what we aim for. We fall in love, we feel the moment is there, we find a source of information and we define: perfection. The great consensus online is that perfection in terms of sex means '_always wet, always hard'_. Furthermore, female legs are effortlessly smooth, sperm tastes nice, and couples always drift off to higher spheres, both (simultaneously of course), and without fault. _Is it necessary to mention that you're both gorgeous supermodels or does that speak for itself?_

Perfection. Somehow we set a bar and order ourselves to 'Jump', before we stop for even a minute to consider 'How High?'. Let's not. We'll sprain our angles and get hurt. Perfection is what makes anything real look inadequate, unless you define it yourself, that is.

**xXx**

_We spend all of our lives going out of our minds…_

_xXx_

Three month earlier

A page wrinkled as it was turned. Another page followed suit. Katherine was busy flipping through her favourite magazine when she heard a noise upstairs. Her fingers stilled on the paper and she perked up her ears, knowing her daughter had probably gotten out of bed yet again. The little girl had been restless all evening, but Katherine wasn't willing to give in. Just because Damon wasn't home tonight, didn't mean that Sophie didn't have to do as she was told.

Katherine heard a popping sound as two feet half-jumped, half-stumbled the first step down the stairs. _Damn_. For just a second she had forgotten that Sophie had learned how to open up the little gate at the top of the stairs. Katherine instantly rose to her feet, her hand on her right hip and she turned around.

Sophie was quick, immediately _sitting down_ on the stairs and moving down the way her parents had taught her two. She placed her two feet on the stair below and clutched the edge of the stair she was sitting on with both hands, gradually descending. She preferred standing up and clinging to the railing, but she knew well enough that she wasn't allowed. It was '_too dangerous'_.

"Well?" Katherine inquired strictly, eyeing the little girl.

"I'm thirsty," Sophie complained, eyeing her mother with big doe eyes.

"You had half a glass of water before you went to sleep Soph, if I give you any more then you'll wet the bed," Katherine replied, moving up and taking her daughter's hand. "Come. It's passed your bedtime already. You really have to sleep now."

"I miss daddy!" Sophie wailed.

Katherine picked the little girl up and brought her soundlessly to her room, tucking her in again. "Daddy will come and kiss you goodnight when he gets home. He's with uncle Ric now, he'll be back later," Katherine promised for the fourth time that evening.

"My tummy hurts," Sophie replied, looking for another excuse not to have to fall asleep yet.

"Sleep will be good for your tummy," Katherine retorted. "Now close your eyes and try," she ordered, leaving no room for discussion.

A deep sigh fell from her lips as she walked down the stairs. This was the fourth time already that she'd caught Sophie out of bed. She'd tried being firm, but that had made the little girl cry, she had tried being sweet and understanding, but those efforts had been in vain too. Now she was just tired, tired and frustrated. _What mom wasn't able to get her own child to fall asleep_, she questioned. She dreaded the idea of her husband coming home and finding out that she couldn't even make it one evening without him.

On top of that she couldn't stop the nagging little voice inside of her mind, that she did a horrible job raising her daughter, that she was never 'the best she could be'. Deep down she knew she wasn't exactly the motherly type, there were many women who took care of their children with a much more natural flair. Still, she felt like she could do better, that she _had_ to do better, whether it was in her nature or not. Sophie was her daughter, therefore Sophie deserved the best.

A loud bang and the sound of glass breaking broke her out of her reverie. Sophie. Katherine rose with a start and was upstairs within seconds. Her heartbeat was fast and out of time as her eyes anxiously scanned her daughter's room, looking for what had caused the heart wrenching cries that filled the house.

"Sophie!" Katherine called concerned.

"M- mommy," Sophie sobbed.

Katherine swung the door to the adjoining bedroom open and found her daughter on the floor, between laundry and broken glass. Her eyes were red and frightened and she was shivering.

"Sweetie, what happened," Katherine questioned worried, accessing the damage as she picked her little girl up from between the mess. From the looks of it the four-year-old had attempted to crawl on top of the laundry basket to fill her glass with water from the tap. Katherine cursed herself for giving her daughter a real glass instead of a plastic cup. _How could she have forgotten?_

"I-, I fell and my-, my finger is h-, hurt," the four-year-old stuttered between sobs, showing her mother the blood on her pinky-finger. Katherine eyed the glass on the floor and picked Sophie up, then she carried her daughter downstairs, where they kept the antiseptic spray. Sophie cried loudly, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Katherine's neck as they descended the stairs.

When they arrived in the living room, Katherine placed Sophie in the sofa, running her fingers through the child's hair before quickly moving to the kitchen to gather the first aid equipment. As she returned, she placed Sophie in her lap, facing her. "Is it just your finger?" Katherine questioned softly. Sophie nodded. "So you didn't hit your head or hurt your arm, or anything?" Katherine inquired, just to be sure. The little girl shook her head as one final sob fell from her lips. "My foot hurts a bit too, and my leg," she noted, her cheeks were still wet.

"Ok," Katherine stated relieved, wiping the little girl's tears away with her finger . "Now, will you tell me what happened?" she questioned softly.

Sophie shook her head, just once. Katherine, in turn, eyed her surprised since it had obviously been a rhetorical question. "You'll be mad," Sophie protested.

"I won't," Katherine brought in.

"You are _always_ mad," Sophie told her softly, word after word.

_There_. Katherine swallowed audibly, taken aback by her daughter's answer. _That did hurt_. She had no reply. Instead she took a closer look at the little girl's finger to check for any remaining pieces of glass. There were none, it was a clean cut. She wordlessly took the antiseptic spray, then whispered "Bite your teeth, sweetheart," before spraying and dapping the wound. Sophie kept quiet, so did her mother.

"What bandage would you like?" Katherine questioned, her voice hoarse. "The pink one with the yellow crowns," Sophie replied. Her mother unwrapped the one she had selected and applied it to the small finger.

_You. Are. Always. Mad_.

Katherine wrapped her arms around her sweet and innocent daughter and held the little girl closely to her chest, taking the fluffy blanket that rested next to them and draping it over the small child.

"I'm _not_ always mad," Katherine whispered, raking her fingers through Sophie's chocolate curls. The little girl rested her head in the hollow of her mother's neck. Any other day Katherine would have commented on that. She was ticklish and having someone breathe out against her skin made her feel uncomfortable, yet today was not that day. Not a word fell from her lips.

"You were mad tonight," Sophie uttered after a long moment.

"I wasn't mad, I was disgruntled. I had asked you to go to sleep and you came out of your bed four times. You don't play those tricks on daddy," Katherine argued softly.

"Daddy loves me all the way to the moon and back," Sophie stated simply.

Katherine swallowed again, hard.  
"I love you all the way to the moon and back too," she managed barely above a whisper.

Sophie tilted her head at that, looking into her mother's eyes, a mirror image of her own.

"I love you Sophie, you're my little girl. Even when I'm angry, even when you're angry… I'm your mommy, I never stop loving you…" Katherine stated firmly. The small child kissed her mother's cheek, before resting her head again, "I love you too, mommy," she spoke, "also all the way to the moon and back," she added, just to be clear.

**xXx**

_Masters in every time and lord in everyplace,  
are those who stood up for love down in spite of the hate._

**xXx**

Present day

Heavy breathing filled the room as two smooth hands guided Elena's top up her body. Their passionate kissing halted for a moment as the delicate fabric slipped over her head before finding its way to the floor, where Damon's clothes lay, already discarded. Dark blue lace, Elena noted satisfied as she quickly glanced down. She hadn't expected them to end in Damon's bedroom when she'd gotten dressed, so she was relieved that she'd at least chosen something elegant in the morning.

If she'd had a chance to properly prepare herself, she would have probably opted for dark red, perhaps a string too, maybe even stockings if she had been feeling adventurous. But for now the blue lace had to do, and as Damon worked his way down to find the matching half, he seemed anything but disappointed. Perhaps she didn't need to show him all her cards just yet, if they would truly make it work she still had all the time in the world for that.

She shimmied out of her pants, subtly dragging her fingers down her legs. Smooth, she noted, once more relieved. Fantasies were great and all, but she had to admit that being single and busy for over two years had rendered her slightly less meticulous when it came to 'always being prepared for anything'. Luckily, today she was. _Just prepared enough to feel confident_, she decided. As she took in Damon's ravished expression though, it was evident he was far beyond caring for any details. He longed for her, craved her, and being close wasn't nearly close enough.

His lips devoured her hungrily. His tongue played a taunting dance with hers in which tenderness quickly turned into pure passion. Elena didn't mind it one bit though, her desires mirrored his perfectly, and as he dragged his lips down the centre of her chest, her need for him was almost tangible.

The first few moments, he had searched her eyes constantly, consequently checking in to make sure she was completely there with him. Once they crossed the line, there was no way back. If she was going to regret this in the morning, that would effectively break him, Damon knew. Still, every time his eyes had met hers, he'd gotten further confirmation that she was exactly where she wanted to be. Gone was the nervous, squeamish fifteen-year-old. This mature version of her wasn't afraid to confirm that he was doing well. The sweet little noises he elicited from her lips were his personal brand of heroine. He needed no further reassurance, they fact that they were both one fire, was the evident truth.

His lips dipped lower and lower, discovering inch by inch of flawless skin. She was drop-dead gorgeous, the most beautiful woman on the planet. Yet that wasn't about size or weight, it was about her, about the way she made him feel. Elena was home, she was the place where he could be himself. There were beautiful bodies all over the world, but she was a person, the woman he loved. He knew that even ten or fifteen years from that moment one, he'd still adore every part of her, because all of those parts were his. These were the fingers that raked through his hair, the chest where he could rest his head, the curves that fitted him so perfectly. When he was around Elena, intimacy would always be more than just personal pleasure, this was the woman he wanted to worship. He _needed_ her to adore this too.

Satisfaction and pride swelled in Damon's chest as he heard her breath hitch in her throat. He was only kissing her insides of her tights, still refusing to give her more until he could give her a clue what he was capable of with only limited effort. Elena did her best to grunt convincingly in protest, but he knew she didn't mean it. This was their first time together, he wanted it to last for more than mere seconds. With that in mind, he allowed the lace at her waist to stay in place a little while longer while he left a red hot trail of kisses in the middle of her chest, moving back up and undoing her bra in the process. He kissed her with vigour, enjoying the little moments when she broke their pattern in response to his talented fingers. He relished in all the little things he could show her now he was finally allowed to.

"Ya-, you're good," Elena uttered breathlessly as his lips trailed her neck. The 'I've always have been', was on the tip of Damon's tongue, but he swallowed the words along with his smirk, instead he just beamed up at her. It felt so very, utterly, truly, perfect to finally be there with her, sharing a memory like that. For the briefest moment his mind flashed to the letter in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, '_til kingdom come_. This was it, he realized. This was the chance at a fantasy he had never truly let go off.

"Oh." Elena's lungs filled in a quick gulp she held. She was close. And she was laying undressed before him now. Well, perhaps _lying_ wasn't the most accurate description, since she was rather responsive to his ministrations. God, he loved her like that. He loved _her. _Period. And the fact that she was breathing heavy and clearly feeling a wide array of blissful sensations _because of him_, made Damon feel like the proudest man alive. In his head there was the constant struggle between loving her tenderly and devouring her completely. Three minutes ago he'd never deemed himself capable of pausing, but now the need to make the moment the utmost pleasurable to her, had forced him to reign himself in temporarily, he caught himself wondering what she liked best. He wanted their first time together to be perfect. Perfect for her.

Her back, which had been arched upwards, found its way down to the mattress again. Damon whispered a kiss onto her stomach, pondering what was next. Elena still had her eyes shut, threading her fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to hers as she came down from her high. He felt how she hitched her leg up and around his waist. Then he realized that she was about to turn them and switch positions. Damon stopped her, staying in place. That's when Elena opened her eyes for the first time, eying him in wonder, almost pleading.

Damon kissed her once more and when her eyes asked the same silent question he softly shook his head. "I want to," Elena whispered. She kissed his neck and trailed a path closer and closer to his ear, tracing the sensitive skin delicately. It felt incredible, causing Damon's eyes to fall shut in bliss. "I've waited so long," Elena drew, seductively and just the right amount of needy. It snapped Damon back to reality, though. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't last.

"I-" he felt her continue her trail back down, "We can't," he managed. He couldn't finished his sentence, wasn't content with the words, unfortunately that didn't made them any less true. Luckily Elena caught the meaning in his eyes, she needed no further explanation and went back to kissing him. "Next time," she promised. Damon nodded relieved. And then he felt her fingers trail down, a lone nail was slowly dragged down his inner tight, teasing yet never touching. Perhaps there was some truth to the 'men can only think about one thing at a time' statement. All that was left in his mind at that moment was unfiltered desire.

Gone were his worries about perfection and perfect planning, their moment was already as perfect as it could possibly be. He was ready, she was ready. They had waited so long already.

"Damon?"

His breathing didn't slow or accelerate. Hearing his name had never been a major turn-on, but he didn't mind though, Elena could do whatever she liked.

"Damon!" he heard again, louder this time.

"Damon!?" Damon opened his eyes in confusion, that didn't sound very seductive…

"You ok?" Damon drew puzzled.

"There's a noise. Maybe it's Sophie. I think you should check," Elena explained with a pained expression.

Damon blinked two times, attempting to clear his head and snap back. This was the worst timing ever, he decided, yet he quickly kissed her lips before retrieving his boxers. Sophie wasn't optional and she did come first. It's just a few minutes, Damon told himself as he saw Elena cover herself with the blanket. _Just a few minutes_… They did have all night.

**xXx**

_We made it to the moon,  
but we can't make it home  
waiting on a rescue that never comes._

**xXx**

Three months earlier[CVD1]

Half an hour later, neither Sophie, nor Katherine had moved. The little girl was asleep in her mother's lap now, breathing evenly. In the meanwhile Katherine pondered the position she found herself in. The first thought that came to her mind was: '_How did we end up here_?'. It was only a few minutes later that it dawned on her that that wasn't the right question. The more accurate one would be '_How didn't we end up here before?_'.

The answer wasn't that difficult to find, this was all her fault. Four-year-olds didn't control relationships, grown-ups did. And in this case there was a clear glitch in the system, something had been failing. _She_ had been failing. Maybe it wasn't in her, maybe she was simply not mother-material… _But why did it hurt so deeply when Sophie clearly preferred her father then? Was it exclusively about the pain that statement had caused to her ego?_

_No, _this wasn't about her ego, Katherine noted. This was about her self-esteem, but more importantly about love and guilt. As much as she failed at being better, she despised failing her daughter. If there was anything in life she loved deeply, it was the little girl on top of her lap. _So what kept her from being able to show it?_

Sophie shifted to her side, turning around in Katherine's lap. Her head was tucked underneath her mother's chin, and her thumb had found its way into her mouth, she sucked it contently. Katherine raked her hand through her daughter's chocolate curls once again. _Why couldn't it always be like that? Why wasn't she ever the mother her child needed her to be?_

_Because of the world_, Katherine decided. The world wasn't ready for this side of her, or perhaps she wasn't ready to show this side of her to the world. Decades ago she had shut down, stopped believing in smiles and gratitude. Being soft was not the right coping mechanism, because the world was anything but rainbows and pink glitter. Letting people in was dangerous. In the best possible scenario you grew attached and would hurt as you lost them. Moreover, general kindness or openness were no use, people only took advantage of those.

No. Katherine had it all figured out before the tender age of six. In life, you could only count on yourself. "We have no eternal allies, and we have no perpetual enemies. But our interests are eternal and perpetual, and those interests it is our duty to follow…" Lord Palmerston was a smart man indeed. It was his philosophy Katherine used when selecting her companions and friends. Feelings were of very little importance to her, what mattered was a practical arrangement in her own benefit.

After two decades she found herself surrounded by the most superficial and hypocritical people. The genuine and kind souls in her contacts were severely outnumbered. Yet she always did what was expected of her, exchanging pleasantries, knowing full well that no one truly cared. _Neither did she_ and that was fine by her. No expectations, no disappointments, no one to love, no one to miss. It made life very safe and predictable. _And empty, that too._

The only trouble her approach brought about was the confusion it caused. Damon was the first one to have ever asked her _who she was. E_ven after five more years she still had no reply to that. Was she the cold, heartless bitch, speaking sarcasm as her mother tongue and venom as her accent, or was she still the girl behind the mask, the one that was frightened to _care_ again?

After almost twenty years of excellent acting, didn't one become the part one played? For a little while Katherine had thought no part of her previous self lingered, that her life truly was the wonderful lie she had once created. It was only in situations like the one she found herself in that it dawned on her how it was still just an illusion, an elaborate ruse fooling even herself at times. There was no true armour of indifference, regardless of what mask she chose to wear. At the end of the day there wasn't enough Prozac in the world to cure a broken soul. And even a four-year old girl was perfectly capable of unhinging her and tearing down the walls with four simple words. _How did one protect oneself from that?_

She had ruined more than she could ever fix. She had denied herself of every single part of her humanity. She had sold her soul and yet she still wasn't safe from pain. She had given up a life and gotten nothing in return, one grotesque miscalculation. Now she was surrounded by vultures, everyone was out for her blood. She wasn't loved. She was either hated or feared.

If not a single person knew what was behind the mask, then was there a point where that mask became your face? If not a single person knew who you truly were, then did you still exist?

**xXx**

_Who put the flower in the barrel of that gun?  
Who lit the candle that started the fire,  
burnt down the fortress, the throne?_  
**xXx**

Present day

"She's fast asleep, I think you just heard the wind," Damon hold Elena as he slipped back into the bed. His feet were cold from his little trip around the house.

"But what if she wakes up? What are you going to say if she-" Elena's voice trailed off.

"She won't wake up, Elena. And I locked our door now. You'll have plenty of time to put something on, or hide in my closet if you prefer," Damon joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"But what about tomorrow? I can't just join you two for breakfast. I can't be here when she wakes up." _And you haven't seen my hair in the morning yet, before I've showered, or my face when yesterday's make-up fades_… she added mentally.

"Sophie just turned five, Elena. She has no clue what adults do in bedrooms. For all she knows you're just a friend who slept over. Believe me, she sees no harm in us sharing a bed. But if it makes you uncomfortable, you can set an alarm…" Damon suggested, trying to convince her.

Elena nodded, although Damon couldn't be sure if she truly followed his logic. She kissed him however, and slowly but steadily, they made their way back to the previous moment. The kisses she dropped around his neck, his chest, his lips, his ear, grew more and more heated and he soon found her eager as before again.

Ten minutes later, Elena had put the interruption effectively to the back of her mind. The door was locked and she knew indeed that five-year-old kids made little assumptions about bedroom activities. She felt strongly about Damon and he meant the world to her. All that was left in her mind was the desire to make him feel what she had felt half an hour earlier. After all the conversations, all the newfound revelations, and after a decade of loneliness, she wanted nothing more than to show him the utmost enjoyable product of love.

Surprisingly, Damon himself hadn't let go of the interruption so easily. He hadn't forgotten the conversation they had earlier in the evening and all that occupied his mind was how the perfect spell was broken. He had wanted nothing less than perfection for her, and that didn't include her worrying about his daughter or the alarm in the morning. It pained him, knowing Elena was constantly overthinking everything they were and everything they could be, because of his little girl. That would never change, he loved them both. He needed them both in his life. It had to work, right? _So many people made it work._

It wasn't until Elena stilled her hands on his tights that it dawned on Damon that his body was no longer co-operating. He couldn't concentrate. It didn't work.

Elena eyed him surprised, she wasn't following at all. Damon was alright, he had grounded her and they had picked up where they'd left off, hadn't they?

Damon avoided her eyes as he dropped onto the mattress beside her, silently cursing himself. This wasn't what a perfect night was supposed to be like. She deserved better. He had wanted better for her, wanted this to be a night she'd always remember. He huffed. Perhaps she would, he thought bitterly. Was there anything more emasculating and humiliation then failing, right when you couldn't afford to. _Perfection_.

Elena saw his eyes trained on the wall to his side and quickly fathomed that he was uncomfortable. This was her time to not let them go up in flames. The strength in connection isn't defined in those moments when everything is perfect. It's easy making things work when all the odds work in your favor. It's in the imperfect moments that count, that quickly show how strong a relationship is. With that thought in mind Elena rested her head gently against his chest, molding her body around his. She kissed his skin tenderly, just once, weighing words in her head.

Not the emasculating '_It's ok._', not the even more humiliating '_Are you ok_?' either. Instead she reached behind her and took his arm, draping it along her back until she was comfortably nestled against him. This wasn't an unwanted break, it was time for snuggling. "Isn't it nice, knowing we have more than half a lifetime to figure this out?" Elena whispered.

_Nice_. Damon's eyes flickered to hers, surprised. Then he saw her smile and returned it. "Yes," he whispered back, kissing the top of her head. She was incredible… And his predicament was instantly solved. An evening of perfect imperfection.

**xXx**

_We spend all of our lives going out of our minds.  
They live in the light,  
they stood up for love…_


	17. Bittersweet Symphony

**xXx**

Perfection. It's a concept that makes people nervous. It shouldn't. We don't share our bedroom with 'society', so when it comes to intimacy, perfection only concerns you and the one you love. In that aspect, luck plays a significant role. And if we're lucky, we find someone whose concept of perfection is exactly what makes us feel adequate, comfortable. From that point of view, both intimacy and perfection can be the most amazing concepts ever. Combine them with the right person and you come home, home to a place where you can always be yourself.

**xXx**

_Maybe home is where the heart is given up,  
to the one…_

**xXx**

xXx

Have you ever watched a drop of rain, trail down your window and wonder where it's been? You see, water travels all around the world and that drop may have been in places you've never thought existed. It might have fallen down on a young girl's umbrella, evaporated and blown over battlefields, soared high up in the sky in a cloud, fallen down again as rain and flooded a city. You'll never know who's skin that drop has brushed, what it's been a part of or where it's been. Every drop has a story and in a way people are just like that.

**xXx**

_'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony…_

_…__this life._

**xXx**

20 years earlier

"Daddy, daddy, come catch me!" a young girl shouted, running away giggling in a nice summer's dress. Her father went right after her with his arms open wide and a joyful spark in his eyes. He adored that little girl of his.

The child ran and ran through the garden, happily changing direction and ducking her father's arms when he attempted to grab her. _She was growing up so fast_, the father couldn't help but think to himself. It make him both proud and wistful at the same time remembering the last time they'd spend this much time together. The previous weekend they'd shared had been many weeks ago now, when they'd visited a local theme park together. It was both fascinating and frightening how the bubbly child with the chocolate-brown curls had needed his help climbing the stairs of the slide that day. Admiring her now, her father saw how much more agile and steady she was moving around.

People always said that children grew up fast, and he had always rolled his eyes at the statement he'd grown tired of hearing, yet watching his own flesh and blood grow up and learn right before his eyes, led him to voice exactly that. "Waw Katie, you've gotten quick, little girl!"

"Hahahaha, no no, you are sloooooow," the child drew out happily, continuously dodging her father.

"I'm not." With a swift motion her dad picked her up from the ground, holding her high above his head and twirling her around. The little girl laughed and squealed, relishing in the attention she was getting. Her father had never been around much and she loved it whenever he played with her. When the man's arms grew tired and he made motion to put her down again, the child wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Noooo, don't put me down! Not yet, not yet!" she wailed.

A painful grimace crossed the man's features for barely a second, before he recovered and started to tickle her with a casual smirk. "Are you sure you want me to hold onto you," the man teased.

"Yes daddy, eeeerrr, no daddy," the child didn't know which one to pick in between giggling fits. In the end she calmed down when he found a chair to drop onto and held her on his lap.

"So, how's school these days my sweet girl," the man asked casually.

"I made a painting of a cow, and the teacher wants us to learn to write our names and eeerrr… and Sam was bad in class and he was punished and eeerr… that's all I think," the little girl spoke, thinking hard about kindergarten.

A small sigh left her father's lips, he knew Sam's parents. Back in the day he'd worked for the same company as the little boy's father, he'd had front row tickets to the circus of the economic crisis. After losing his job and having to put the house on sale, Sam's father had become the talk of town. Word was he was a lousy drunk and had hit his wife more than once. A child growing up surrounded by alcohol, tears, screaming and fighting could not be held accountable for not being a picture perfect four-year-old. Could they? In a way life could be cruel like that, shaping struggles and opportunities even before children could read and write.

Slightly proud, the father wrapped his arms more tightly around the little girl on his lap. She'd always had every chance in life. _Her mother had taken all her vitamins during her pregnancy and she'd never touched a single cigarette while carrying her those nine months, the father had insisted. The young girl was raised in a good neighbourhood, with decent families and a proper upbringing. They tried to stimulate her with educational toys, no TV and lots of books, on top of that-_

"Daddy, why are you never home," the small child broke her father out of his musings. "All other kids always have a dad to pick them up and come to the recitals and you are never there…" she questioned, her voice slightly pained.

Her father swallowed. Hard. _She'd always had every chance in life_. _But apparently she missed a father_. "I-, eerr- Well, you know I work in a different state, sweetheart. I can't come home whenever I want to, darling…" he spoke softly.

"But I miss you, daddy." The child insisted, turning around in his lap and meeting his eyes. Her disarmingly open eyes hit him full-force. She was witty, charming and beautiful, but above all disarmingly innocent. Were people talking about her, just like they talked about Sam? Was she acting out in class too, because he was absent all the time? He ought to find more time for her and make her life less confusing, she deserved all life had to offer.

Work and responsibilities were one thing, but not everything in life was for sale. Not all chances and opportunities were for sales. If he wanted her to be happy, and something had got to give…

**xXx**

_'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life  
Try to make ends meet  
You're a slave to money then you die_

**_xXx_**

"But I want to work too!" Sophie wailed loudly. Her father and Elena were doing the dishes after breakfast and she insisted that she was old enough to help.

"Sweetheart, the table is cleared already, there is no more work for you to do," Damon tried to calm his overeager little girl. With Elena still visiting, the five-year-old was more than motivated to make an impression and if her dad and Elena were working then so would she. "I'm going to put the dried plates away," Sophie announced, having found a task for herself to execute.

"Princess, you know you can't reach the top shelf…" Damon drew while scrubbing the frying pan.

Elena felt a small hand pull at her sleeve. "Elena, will you pick me up so I can put the dishes in the cupboard?" Sophie wondered sweetly. "Of course." Elena smiled secretively at her before lifting the young girl. Damon rolled his eyes at Elena, he hadn't missed the small smirk on his daughter's lips. Then again, he knew where she'd picked up that charm. _Like father, like daughter_, he thought with a smirk of his own.

It had Elena smiling, she too had noticed the resemblance, but she was smiling because of a whole lot more. As Damon took over his daughter, and flew her across the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes, she felt incredibly lucky to witness the scene. This was Mister Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, top negotiator, playing around with a five-year-old in a pink dress. The lovely little girl had him wrapped around her little fingers. It was a precious moment to be a part of. Damon was known as the charming, slick, slightly arrogant businessman. Elena felt lucky to be one of few people who knew him better than that and got to see what was hidden beneath the surface. There's always more than meets the eye with people, every stranger is someone's child, someone's friend and perhaps someone's parent. It meant a lot to her to be allowed to know the real Damon again, to see and feel what was truly on his mind, to be part of his life again after over ten years.

"Will you pick me up to put away the last cup, Elena?" Sophie's voice rang sweetly as she looked up hopefully at Elena.

"Of yours, Sophie," Elena replied, picking her up. Damon was drying up the sink and a small smile played on his lips. When the door of the cupboard closed again, Elena sat Sophie down on the counter. Damon was throwing out the pancakes they hadn't eaten outside and the little girl grabbed the opportunity to start a small interrogation. It hadn't been lost on her how Damon stopped her every time she wanted to know something about Elena's personal life. "Elena, do you have kids?" Sophie wondered out loud.

"No, I don't…" Elena replied swiftly, "But I would like to have them one day," she added honestly.

"You would be a super good mom," Sophie told her with a big smile. "You make the best hot chocolate!" she informed Elena happily, jumping off the counter and almost spraining an ankle in the process. _Trying to show off could be painful sometimes_…

"Thank you," Elena replied.

"And do you have a boyfriend?" Sophie questioned next, taking Elena slightly aback. "Eeerr-"

Before Elena could come up with a reply, the plate where the pancakes had been on slipped out of Damon's hands in the doorway. The porcelain shattered into pieces all over the kitchen floor. "Elena, would you pick Sophie back up and bring her to the living room while I clean up this mess?" Damon implored. His tone was even, though the glance he shared with Elena was a prudently exited one.

"Of course," Elena replied swiftly, pulling Sophie into her arms. The little girl smiled warmly at her, she enjoyed being picked up and held.

Before the two of them reached the living room, however, the doorbell rang.

"Mommy!" Sophie nearly squealed, her eyes went wide with excitement and in the blink of an eye she hopped out of Elena's arms and rushed to the hallway. Elena searched for Damon's eyes and saw her own fear reflected in his.

"Mommy, mommy," Sophie mumbled again excitedly, busy fidgeting with the key so she could unlock the door.

**xXx**

_Well I never pray  
But tonight I'm on my knees yeah  
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me_

**xXx**

20 years earlier

"Daddy, daddy!" a five year old child happily shouted through the house while running to the front door. A painful grimace spread across her mother's features, but she swallowed her unease down and slowly headed towards the door.

"Good afternoon Miss-," the man in front of her check his clipboard, "-Pierce. I work for ADO Energy Solutions and I've come to present you our new prices and arrangements. Could I come in and present you what we have to offer?" the salesman asked all chipper.

"No thank you, have a nice day," the mother replied tiredly, dragging her little girl away from the porch and closing the door shut. Her sweet, young daughter was looking down, tears freshly pooling in her eyes. Her mother hadn't missed how the five-year-old had peered as far as she could, taking in every face she saw on the street, looking for her father. She did it all the time, when she was driven to school, whenever she was in the supermarket, or waiting for a doctor's appointment. It had been months, yet still the small child hadn't stopped looking for her father. It had happened more than once that she would think she saw him and had randomly run after a stranger who vaguely shared some physical features of her father's of even the same deep voice.

"Sweetie, come on, let's watch the rest of that movie," her mother insisted, pulling at her little hand and trying to change the child's mind before the floodgates would open. She was too late yet again.

"I-, I-, I-," the little girl pulled her hand back between sobs, "I want D-, daddy…" she uttered painfully sad. The sight of the beautiful young girl with the wide and innocent chocolate eyes would have made any heart ache.

"Oh, darling…" her mother picked her up an carried her over to the sofa again.

"Where-, where is daddy?" the small child wondered for the millionth time in her young life.

"Sweetheart, daddy is with grandma up in heaven," her mother repeated patiently. They'd been over this again and again. Her little girl hadn't seen her father ever since right before Christmas, it was almost Eastern now and the news still hadn't sunk in. In the beginning she had asked her a few times a day, later the questions had been less frequent. Still, once or twice a week, the sweet five-year-old would forget how to make sense of it all and ask the questions all over again, hoping for different answers, answers she never got…

"But when will he come back from heaven then?" the child insisted.

"My sweet little baby, there is no coming back from heaven," her mother drew softly.

"But how can that be?" the little girl asked, not understanding it at all.

"Baby, people have bodies… And they have hearts, a heart is the motor of a body, just like a car has a motor. And when a motor is broken, then the car cannot work. So when a heart doesn't work anymore, then the body cannot work anymore. When there is no working heart, you cannot move your legs or your fingers, you cannot think and you cannot breathe. Then you have a body, but nothing is working, so it looks the person is sleeping and he can't wake up anymore."

"But what if we shake his shoulders and if we yell really hard? Daddy loves me, he will wake up if I try!" the little girl insisted.

"Katherine, he can't," Isobel replied shortly, too curtly. At times she could grow so tired of all the questions. She missed the little girl's father too, she felt lonely and abandoned too, she too didn't know what to do or how to deal and some days she was simply lost. Where was the man she'd fallen in love with? And where was the happy, bubbly, brave little girl she had raised.

"Why aren't you trying?!" the small child asked exasperated. She was tired of all the wrong answers, she didn't understand the concept of 'death', she didn't understand 'never', why wouldn't anyone do something?

"Katie, there is nothing anyone can do…" Isobel insisted once more. She watched her little girl cross her arms and look down at the floor, she was angry. Isobel searched for the right words to voice, but came up blank. Katherine was slipping away from her, the happy, polite and sweet little girl, that was admired and loved wherever she went, was slipping right between her fingers. With every conversation ending the same way, Isobel was rendered out of her depth, she didn't know how long she could keep this up before slipping into numbness herself. Instinctively she grabbed her phone and looked up the one number she could no longer call.

Her daughter was sitting next to her in pain, waiting for comfort and warmth, yet all Isobel could muster was the pit of self-pity ever-growing in her stomach. She didn't want to re-answer every painful question, she wanted to scream and shout and cry and drink and surrender to the dark clouds that had been looming over her for months now. She kept it together, barely, but she always did. Because next to being the women that was left behind, she was a mother, being a mother had to come first and so she flipped her switched again. She took a deep breath. "Sweetheart, daddy can't come visit through the front door again… But he lives inside of your heart, he can live when you think of him. You can see him whenever you like, when you close your eyes and picture him. And sweetheart, when you watch the sky at night, remember the we-"

"-all watch the same moon," Katherine complete that sentence the way her father had taught her to.

"Exactly," her mother agreed.

"Even from heaven?"

"Even from heaven."

The little girl snuggled closer to her mother and pulled the fleece blanket up as high as it would go. With her head against her mother's chest, she felt gentle fingers stroke through her curls, it calmed her down. "It will all be alright, Katie, we will be alright," Isobel promised, half to herself. And with Katherine settled down and at ease again, she had a minute or two to mourn for herself again.

**xXx**

_And I'm a million different people  
from one day to the next  
I can't change my mold_

**xXx**

"Mommy, mommy!"

The doorbell resounded again and Damon turned around to get it. Elena appeared to be frozen to the ground for a second. _What if it were Katherine? Could she even be seen in the house? Was this the point where she should pry open a window and escape? How was she supposed to fix this, how would Katherine react?_

Elena got increasingly nervous as the second ticked be.

"Well hello, little sister," Damon's voice suddenly boomed relieved through the house.

"Aunt Caroline," Sophie acknowledged, not even moderately impressed. She wasn't able to hide her disappointment and let her father do the talking while she turned around.

Caroline watched confused as the little girl slowly walked back into the house half-dazed, usually the small child couldn't be happier whenever she came to visit and she'd expected a very warm welcome, especially since she'd been away for so long.

"Sophie, how's Tiger?" Caroline called after the retreating little figure disappearing behind the corner. Sophie never stopped to answer, tears had freshly sprung in her eyes. But perhaps aunt Caroline had a point, _Tiger_. She entered the kitchen to go look for her kitten, the little creature was always soft, warm and comforting.

"Aaaaauuu, au, au, au, au, aaaaaaauuuu." Soft cries broke the silence as Sophie stepped into splinter after splinter of broken porcelain, she hadn't been watching where she was going when she had entered the kitchen.

"Oooh, Sophie are you alright?" Elena questioned, rushing into the kitchen as she realized what was happening. She hurried to the little girl and picked her up, rocking her a little on her hip as she tried to soothe her. "Elena?" a very surprised voice boomed through the hallway.

Caroline, Elena had almost forgotten in the relief of the moment. This might be better than Katherine, but it wasn't going to be rainbows and pink glitter either…

"I stepped into the splinters, my foot is b-, bleeding," Sophie wailed, grabbing at the spot where it hurt.

Damon glanced from his little girl to the two women who were uncomfortably avoiding each other's eyes. Caroline was the first to try and deny the tension on the room. "Sweetheart, would you like for me to go upstairs with you and clean you up in the bathroom?"

Sophie slowly shook her head from left to right, almost mechanically, watching her aunt brought back the tears in her eyes. She loved Caroline, adored the woman who'd always made time for her and played with her, but right that moment, she didn't want her around. She'd hoped with a burning intensity that it would have been her mom at the door. She still hadn't swallowed down her disappointment over seeing Caroline instead.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" Damon inquired, usually Sophie acted like her aunt was larger than life. Whenever Care was around he could forget about playing a game with her or cutting her food, Caroline was always first pick when she was around.

"I want my mommy," Sophie spoke softly, the honestly in her innocent young voice was disarming. "I-, I-, I just really want mom to come back," she added, tears welling up in her eyes. Damon briefly eyed Caroline and Elena after which he almost apologetically gave them a subtle nod toward the living room. Under different circumstances Caroline might have made a scene and Elena might have fled the scene, yet both women fathomed that Damon was having a hard enough time as it was. They all had their struggles and they all had their separate histories, but in that moment it didn't matter where they'd been, this wasn't about them.

**xXx**

_I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down  
You know the one that takes you to the places  
where all the things meet?_

**xXx**

The clocked ticked loudly in the main office of Gardner &amp; Perch as Katherine stared spitefully at Mister Mikaelson, she hated the way he had gotten to her the moment before.

"So where were we again, Miss Pierce. You were about to further inform me on your case weren't you?" Elijah inquired polished.

"No, Mister Mikaelson, I told you already. I need shared custody, therefore I needed a lawyer and you had ùa nice little drawer with personal files of various excellent lawyers, being a law firm," Katherine drew irritated.

"Very well, perhaps I haven't made myself clear enough Miss Pierce. You see, both you and I know that what you've just told me is hardly the entire story and possibly not even true in the least. So I ask you again, why did you truly go after those files?" Elijah wondered out loud equally casual as before.

"You don't have kids… Do you, Sir?" Katherine spoke, her voice sharp as a razorblade. She knew the man had always wanted children and wasn't getting any younger, it was public knowledge ever he'd been in the tabloids when his engagement was broken off. According to the rumors his relationship had went south because he wanted to build a life and his fiancée hadn't been ready for that kind of commitment. Now the prospect of having a child of his own was further than ever.

Elijah didn't cringe, nor did he acknowledge the jab. "Are we back with the emotional act, Miss Pierce? How about I alert the authorities if you're so tired of this conversation."

Katherine snorted, "Are we back with the threats? How about you do? If you were never honestly planning to give me a fair chance then I think you've had enough amusement torturing me tonight, haven't you?" she shot back.

"I beg your pardon?" Elijah announced strictly, "I'm a man of my word, Miss Pierce, anyone who knows me can attest to that fact. Yet my patience is not a bottomless well and it's wearing thin so mark your words! I could have called for back-up the second we caught you red-handed, yet I offered to hear you out. All I have asked for so far is honestly, still evidently you see no reason to deliver. Is there a particular reason why you do not wish to make use of this opportunity to save your skin, perhaps for that child or yours?" Elijah quirked an eyebrow. Katherine saw red.

"You know what you are Mister Mikaelson? A stuck up, arrogant, narcissistic egomaniac! You have deceived yourself to believe you are infallible, haven't you? The great general manager, concerned with his people, the gracious, generous businessman with the honest heart. Yet you make millions of dollars a years, Sir and you look down on everyone. You don't get a golden star for knowing the name of your security guy, you're not a saint just because you give less than 1% of your income to a worthy cause. You're not admirable just because you work late for the profit you yourself collect and you don't get any credit for amusing yourself with this major display of power. You're a lonely boy without a spine or a realistic worldview, that's who you are!" Katherine spat right in his face.

"It sickens me seeing you and your high horse partners, loudly yelling that you threat everyone the same way, yet you all come from exclusive private school and don't want a neighborhood with a single immigrant. You don't feel better than anyone else, huh? Yet you pat yourself on the back when you've addressed the cleaning lady or smiled at the black guy on the subway, because you are so very tolerant, aren't you? Why don't you rub the perfumed soap from your eyes, Mister Mikaelson, there is no need to have a conversation with me simply to tell deceive yourself 'that you are the good guy', you're not. So go ahead and call the police already, I wish to no longer be part of your delusion." Katherine crossed her arms and stared at the door. She had had enough for one night, Mister Mikaelson could go screw himself.

A small grin played across her lips as she pondered that for a moment, the statement '_you can go screw yourself_'. People used it all the time, all day long in various contexts, places and times. Yet now it was strangely fitting, a single man, late at night… She was his last 'responsibility' that night, all that was left for him to do was call the police and head home alone to go… screw himself? _Yeah, it was no longer funny when it was actually fitting_, Katherine shook her head.

"I am not a part of that system," Elijah replied calmly.

"W-, what?" Katherine asked, still stuck in her previous train of thought.

"Your little rant. There was some truth to what you've said. It may have been wildly inappropriate and downright rude, but I understand your reasoning. However, I am not part of that system," Elijah added.

Katherine shook her head confused, she hadn't expected a reasonable reply to her insults, it was supposed to have been her big 'exit speech'. She had no follow-up one-line up her speech, so after a moment she uttered, "Then who are you?" It sounded more like an open question than a snide retort, she cursed herself. What game where they playing and what was her next move?

**xXx**

_And I'm a million different people  
from one day to the next  
I can't change my mold_

**xXx**

**"**It is your turn to pick two tiles, daddy," Sophie reminded her father when he wasn't playing at the preferred speed. The little girl and her father were playing memory on the kitchen table. Sophie had calmed down a little and the two young women in the living room had started a conversation of their own.

"A plane and a bird, those are not the same, daddy, you have to put them back now…" Sophie ordered.

Damon did as he was told. "Soph, why did you ask Elena if she had a boyfriend earlier?" Damon asked the one question that had been burning a hole in his head.

"Because Ric needs a girlfriend, daddy," Sophie explained plain and simple, "And I have a bird and a bird, now I can go again," Sophie informed him, picking two new tiles.

"And how about me, little girl? Do I need a girlfriend?" Damon tried to make the question sound an innocent as possible.

"Of course not," Sophie giggled. "You have a wife," she reminded him.

"I do now…" Damon agreed. "But your mommy doesn't want to be together with me anymore," Damon replied.

"So does that mean that she dumped us then?" Sophie wondered, while Damon picked to different tiles again.

"No, I think you mom just left me. I think she wants to see you again and be with you again, but then in two families. Mommy will have her own house and I will have this house then," Damon tried to explain.

"A plane and a plane," Sophie announced, picking two of the four remaining cards and not being about to find the pair. "Why can't she just life back here with us?" she insisted.

"Because your mom doesn't want to be around me anymore…" Damon replied truthfully. "But I wonder, if your mommy is living alone, would you be ok staying with her without me sometimes? I know your mom isn't always nice and sweet, Soph." Damon flipped the bird tile over and made motion to pick the second one.

"Nooo, pick the other one," Sophie quickly interjected.

Her father obeyed her request and flipped the card with the house over. Sophie smiled happily and picked the two tiles with the bird, then she turned over the two house tiles that were left. She stared at them for a long moment and counted their points. She had six pairs while her father had four. "I don't want the two houses," she announced, handing him the final pair. "See, now we both win," she spoke, recounting her pairs again.

"Sophie…" Damon called.

"I just miss my mommy, I want things to go back to how they were," Sophie drew.

Damon stood up to put the game away, suddenly the night before seemed so very long ago.

You were happy, mom was happy and I was happy," the little girl summed up.

**xXx**

_I can't change  
my mold  
No, no, no, no, no  
I can't change_

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life

**xXx**

"Who am I?" Elijah repeated her question. "Well, I am not who you think I am, but I see you already have your judgment at the ready. In a way it could be considered rather amusing how you claim that I ride a high horse while you clearly feel better than anyone you've ever come across. I think you're being just as narrow minded as those you condemn, or am I mistaken?" Elijah suggested.

Katherine came up wordless yet again so Elijah simply continued. "I was educated in a exclusive private school, and my father does indeed run a high society law-firm. Yet have you failed to notice how I am not working at that firm? Nor am I getting rich sons or perverted fathers out of trouble for that matter. I turned my back on the gun lobby and the oil industry right after I graduated Harvard. This firm does not carry my name, for I don't wish to be associated with my father's 'business', I've carved out my own path, choosing to work under the name of my two business partners and the three of us handle quite a different caseload than the Mikaelson corporation."

A small smile played across Katherine's lips as she saw how Elijah got caught up in defending his honor more than he'd planned to. The calm and poised man was speaking with more vigor now, convinced of his mission. As hard as Katherine usually searched for the loopholes and the gunpowder to go off and make it hurt, she found herself almost genuinely amused and for a second she wondered if her warm expression was real.

"Sounds like you're not your father's biggest fan," Katherine spoke as Elijah sipped from his water.

Elijah blinked once, then caught himself, he didn't like people analysing him. Especially if those people in question were strangers. _Strangers_, well it had been a strange night…

"I am not confirming, nor denying that statement," Elijah replied diplomatically.

"Well, they let me say that I am not your father's biggest fan, but I can see you are different. Good for you," she told him, almost sounding like a comforting human being.

"Enough about me, where do you come from?" Elijah inquired curiously, still attempting to get some truth out of her.

"Depressed and addicted mother; father died before elementary school; I, myself got pregnant too soon, moved in with the father and none of that ever really worked out… Look, I know you don't believe me, but I'm not really the warm and mushy type. There's no family, no friends and no work, I only have that little girl. I want to be her mother. If you're going to believe anything, then believe that, it's the truth," Katherine spoke with a kind of finality.

The calm in her voice surprised Elijah. He'd seen her feign innocence, passion, anger, indignation. Then he'd seen the manipulative side of her, the bitchy side of her, the witty side, the apathetic side of her and now he appeared so have finally pealed down the layers to at least some version of the truth. He could see she was tired, slightly tamed now her words rang more true.

The lingering question, however, would be deciding what to do with her. He searched for her eyes and she no longer looked for a different mask to wear. Whatever her motives or her intentions, he'd always been good at reading people. Katherine may be a loose cannon but she did have that child and she was in trouble. The curious part of him was ready to have it play out, she had been right in her rant, at one point he had to offer her a second chance or hand her over. The young woman may have been wild, daring and so very unlike him in more ways than one, but who would he be if he didn't extend his principles to people who differed from himself.

"Come by Monday during hours and I'll consider helping you with your case," Elijah suddenly announced out of the blue.

"Seriously?" Katherine wondered surprised before she caught herself, Elijah had a stellar reputation all over time, if he was on something it had a habit of getting handled.

"Seriously," Elijah replied, repeating the word, so unlike his own vocabulary.

"Does that mean I can leave now?" Katherine inquired half weary.

"You may," Elijah replied, "And I strongly advise you to head straight for the exit and skip the forbidden areas this time around," he added with a small smile.

"I will, thank you, Sir," Katherine replied politely, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Have a good night, Miss Pierce," he told her with a small nod, before holding the door open for her like the true gentleman he was.

He'd given her a chance, he was a good person and in the thoughts that ran through his head on automatic pilot, he gave himself that golden star she'd been talking about. The woman had some wit so match that nerve of hers, he had to give her that…

**xXx**

_No change, I can change  
I can change, I can change  
But I'm here in my mold  
I am here in my mold_

**xXx**

It was over an hour after the incident with the doorbell, that Damon picked up Sophie and entered the living room. The hushed voice of his sister desperately trying to convince Elena instantly stilled. "Caroline, could you take Sophie for a minute?" Elena questioned with her voice cold and detached.

"Elena, come on, I told you! Maybe I misheard and there's always a reason, you have to-" Caroline started.

"What is going on?" Damon interrupted her before she could finish the sentence. He took in Caroline's apologetic expression and the betrayal in Elena's eyes.

Elena wasn't speaking.

"Alright, fine," Caroline huffed, taking Sophie by the hand and leading her upstairs.

"Hey," Damon drew softly, closing the distance between the reach out his hand to touch her cheek.

Elena had her arms crossed over her chest and made no sound until the door upstairs was shut. Tears welled up in her eyes as they met Damon's.

Her voice quivered as she attempted to utter the one question that remained. "When were you planning to stop lying about Katherine?" The pain in her voice was impossible to miss.

Damon's face turned ashen and the silence that followed was deafening.

**xXx**

_'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life._

**xXx**

Not unlike a drop of water, we all have a history. People don't just turn out behaving a certain way, the things we've been through and the people we've met are what shape us and turn us into who we are. The guy with the blue eyes you see on the subway, the girl with the red shirt you passed in the shop, there's not just here and now, all of them have a 'this morning' and a 'yesterday'. There is always more history than meets the eye… Taking that into account before judging from time to time, is what sets tolerance apart from ignorance. Sometimes even those we don't know need some credit, because it's a bittersweet symphony, this life…

**xXx**


	18. Hello

Comeback: noun.  
A comeback is a return to a former position or condition.  
For anything to come back, means the world had grown used to something being gone. Google it and you will notice how it's most often paired with the word 'failed'.  
Sometimes what has been gone just cannot keep up with that world that kept on spinning.

Arriving is your choice. You are free to take a seat, free to join the group. You have a clean slate. It's all up to you. But once you mess up, then all is fair game. There is no second time to make that first impression. You either live up to the expectations you have created, or you don't. And that seat you left… well you snooze, you lose. And this time it's up to everyone else to choose if you get that second shot.

xXx

_Hello can you hear me?_

_I've been wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet._

xXx

The second Damon left with Sophie upstairs, Elena and Caroline were drowned in an awkward silence. Caroline was ruefully watching the staircase Damon just climbed with her sobbing niece. _Was she hurt by the little girl's rejection?_ Caroline had always been the more sensitive one of the two of them.

"Don't take it personally." Elena started hesitantly. "She just had a very hard time these past few days," Elena tried.

Caroline briskly turned her head Elena's way. "_And how would you know? When were you here? Did you think you could just be gone for ten years and pick up right where you left of?!_" Caroline wanted to shout, to lecture, to work out all that hurt and anger, yet all she did was nod. "I know," she replied simply, "it hasn't been easy."

Another silence stretched through the room. They both breathed quietly, as if careful not to disrupt it. A million thoughts in both their minds, a million questions on the tip of their tongues but neither said a word. None of them wanted to strike the match to light the fire and make it all explode. They stayed like that for a while. It was a nerve-wrecking silence. That silence while you braced yourself for the impact, prepared yourself for the imminent threat.

In the end Caroline couldn't stand it any longer. "How-, err-" she tried tentatively.

_How was? How what?_ Elena was all wound up, on high alert. She felt like a professional tennis player preparing for every possible way the ball could fly in.

"How- err, did you…, err-"

Elena's eyes focused as she opened and closed her hand impatiently. It was hard to wait, to be patient. _The question did not get formed quickly enough. She couldn't reply to half a question. What if she gave a problematic reply to a question that was not even the one asked. Why couldn't Caroline figure out the words? What was the worst possible question starting with "How did you?" How much longer was it going to take the nervous blonde? And why was she so nervous herself? Was this about their friendship? Could Caroline make her she loose Damon? What exactly was at stake here? _Elena's mind was racing.

"How did you end up here again?" Caroline finally managed.

Elena couldn't quite process her tone. _Was there a hint of accusation her voice? Did she sound just curious? Was Caroline simply attempting some chit-chat? And where was the_ _emphasis in that sentence? On you, on here... on again?_ She was overanalysing.

"Work." Elena forced out with great difficulty. _Where was that professional tennis player now?_

"We - met - at - work." There, a nice four-word sentence.

xXx

No very naive, Katherine thought upon leaving Gardner &amp; Perch a moment later. The crazy fool was lettering her go. He had caught her red handed, they had talked, and now she was walking away free. "_Come by Monday during our opening hours"_. Was he going to pretend she was any other client? _Must have been craving any kind of contact then_, Katherine pondered. As she waited at a near bus stop, she found herself wanting to know more about the strange mister Mickelson.

A quick search online instantly linked him to various non-profit organizations. _Boring_, Katherine mentally sing-songed. It was only three pages further that she found a less formal link. "The 13 ways Marshall cheated on Mickelson" popped up on screen. _Bingo_. _Nasty break-ups had one benefit: they were a joy to read up on_, Katherine mused.

It took five more clicks to get to the more juicy details of Michelson's fling gone wrong. A picture of Hayley between some handsome man's unzipped pants slowly got loaded. _Damn the terrible internet connection_. Miss Marshall was clearly too drunk to care. Another picture had Elijah's former lover topless on a poker table. _Classy_. The pictures went on and on. _Oh well, guess that didn't work out_. As the page fully loaded the 'related articles' appeared. "Amical break-up not so amicable. Is Gilbert out for revenge?" she read.

Curiously Katherine opened the article.

"Ex-boyfriend Mickelson better watch out because we haven't heard the last of Elena Gilbert. When the CEO had his birthday last Friday she sent this ambiguous tweet out:

*** Elena Gilbert E_Gilbert . 6 days  
Hold on buddy, there is nothing I do better than revenge!***

Was she really talking about the young boy in the picture? A mysterious time to quote Taylor Swift there, miss Gilbert. What do you think? Share your thoughts with us in the comment section below."

Katherine snorted. _Were they serious?_ She eyed the image of a little boy enthusiastically throwing dough onto his babysitter. _Apparently reporters would do anything these days to create a page for you to click on… _

xXx

Many awkward pauses later Elena had managed to explain Caroline how she had stumbled back into Damon's life. It felt weird talking to her this way, almost as if she was being interrogated about her complicity in a crime.

"So, how have you been?" Elena asked politely once she felt the timing was right.

Caroline took a moment to respond. _How had she been? These past few days, months, years?_

"I heard you were married now," Elena added, steering the conversation away from any potential heaviness.

"I did," Caroline confirmed. "His name is Klaus, he's a heart surgeon," she supplemented.

Elena did her best not to roll her eyes at that. "_Oh really Care, his profession, is that the most defining characteristic you could come up with? Not his personality, nor the connection you share, but his status?_" Elena wanted to spout. Instead she kept her face poised, "A surgeon, nice," she supplied collected.

"How about you? I heard you were married too," Caroline asked.

"Yes," Elena nodded. "Elijah was – _a poet, an incredibly sweet guy, someone who always made me smile_ – the CEO of Gardner &amp; Perch, you know their law firm right?" Elena spoke stiffly, not to be outdone. "But we broke up in March, it was amicable," she reluctantly added.

Caroline watched her appraisingly and a sigh escaped Elena's lips. What this what they had been reduced to? Pleasantries and superficial chit-chat? She wanted to know how Caroline was doing, not how much her husband earned for a living. She was fidgeting with her fingers now, wondering how to turn their conversation around. _Would Caroline be open for something more personal? Was there even a way to get back to where they once were?_

"How has Damon been?" Elena tried forging a bridge.

"You tell me," Caroline replied.

Elena was taken aback by the quick retort for a moment_. Was she trying to give her a stab or was she simply referring to Damon being rather private._

"Err, I think he's worried about Sophie," Elena replied. "But I wasn't there for all of it so I'm not really sure what's been going on," she tried easing the tension.

"Indeed. You weren't," the harsh words were lying on the tip of Caroline's tongue, but she swallowed them down and recomposed herself. The past was the past. His brother could use a friend, she figured.

"Are you staying this time?" was all she asked.

"Of course. I-, I told Damon everything. It wasn't what you guys thought-, there had been-" This was what Elena had been preparing for, telling Caroline what had really happened, how sorry she was, how the circumstances just hadn't been in their favour. The words left her lips in a rush as she stumbled over them.

"And I never meant to leave-, I mean I loved the both of you-, I wish we could-" She felt like she was five and she had just broken her mother's vase. _Why was this such a big deal? Why was she feeling so small, yearning this much for Caroline's forgiveness and approval? Perhaps all the lonely years had taken their toll on her. Perhaps all the obsessing had caused her to ignore how the years had gone by._

"No stop," Caroline interrupted her. "It's done," she spoke determinedly, willing Elena's lips to stop moving. "I did not ask for the big speech, I've moved on. Full stop. The question is whether you are staying. A yes will do just fine." Her eyes conveyed the same determination, she wasn't up for heartfelt reminiscing.

"Then yes, I guess?" Elena spoke hesitantly.

"You guess? Damon has a traumatised 5-year old plus a simmering custody battle and you guess?" Caroline snapped.

"No, yes, I meant yes!" Elena defended herself quickly.

"You better," Caroline replied strictly, "You're not fifteen anymore, this is real life." Caroline pressed. "The stakes are higher now, you know. No room for you to come back if you won't be back for real."

"I know, Caroline. Trust me, I do," Elena insisted.

"I hope so," Caroline relented, giving Elena a stern, meaningful look.

All was not forgiven and forgotten, that much was evident.

**xXx**

_They say time's supposed to heal you._

_But I ain't done much healing_

**xXx**

Caroline watched the clock in the back of the room. Damon had been gone for over fifteen minutes already. _How much longer was he going to take?_

She stood up to make some coffee. As the water trickled down she absentmindedly stared at Elena's back. The girl in front of her was no more than a stranger. Just like 17 Magazine and the Twilight books, she was part of a past Caroline had left behind. Her anger for Elena had faded along with her love for Jacob black.

All those magnified feelings she had experienced in the day seemed so childish now. Yet even devoid of the emotions, the facts remained fresh in her mind. She might not know the Elena in front of her anymore, but she remembered enough to be cautious about the young woman's role in her brother's life.

Caroline sat a steaming cup down before Elena. "Is there any-" Caroline handed her former friend the soy milk before she could finish the question. She had remembered Elena's lactose intolerance.

"I've missed you," Elena declared as she took the milk.

Caroline hadn't. It was as simple as that.

She wasn't angry anymore, nor did she hold a grudge. But she had moved on, it had been ten years. For a brief moment she pondered lying to the girl in front of her to return the sentiment. On the other hand she had never been a fan of all the fake pleasantries in life. "Here, have some cake," she changed the subject instead. The kind and warm smile on her lips were supposed to make up for the rejection.

"Remember when we used to spend hours experimenting with all kinds of deserts in the kitchen?" Elena reminisced with fondness.

Caroline nodded politely, but if she were being honest those moments weren't exactly fresh in her memory.

"The upcoming parties, the fights with our mothers, the boys we used to crush on, we used to discuss everything over some dough. We had so much time to do whatever we wanted back then… And somehow we never ran out of things to discuss. Man, if I think of all our major worries back then, they would be peanuts to us today," Elena figured.

"Hmm," Caroline replied, "As it should be, we were a decade younger back then. Would be problematic if we hadn't grown up, don't you think?"

"Yes," Elena admitted, "but sometimes I miss those days", she added. "No bills, no household."

"No pay check or freedom either," Caroline brought in, "I can't say I miss high school."

"But don't you miss how much simpler it was? Food on the table, cloths in your closets, time for your friends?" Elena questioned.

"Well now I choose what food's on the table, and nobody's nagging to me about anything. Plus I spend time with my friends whenever I want to, I'm an adult." Caroline disagreed.

"I just think friendship isn't what it used to be. Or relationships. When you're young you follow your heart, you befriend who you like, date whoever you like, when you're older that's much more complicated. It's all about status and appearances..."

"Only if you make it," Caroline interjected. "I just fell in love. It was never about his career, or me needing a boyfriend because others did."

"Fine, but look at Damon and Katherine. From what I've heard they-,"

"Sure, Kat got pregnant, but those two didn't hate each other when they started out," Caroline put in. "Damon may fool himself into believing that if that makes it hurt any less, but he was mesmerised when they first met. You've never met Katherine, that women could make a monk fall in love, she was definitely something…" Caroline mused.

Elena's face fell.

"He loved you more," Caroline instantly blurted out, attempting to make up for her previous statement. "It's not like Katherine was better than anyone," she quickly brought in. "He hates her now. But she just had that mischievous spark in her eyes. If he claims he never fell for that than he's just lying to himself."

Hearing about Damon's ex felt strange for Elena. On one hand it satisfied part of the curiosity that had grown inside of her, yet on the other hand it was quite confronting. Caroline noticed and tried to switch subjects. "I hope Sophie is doing better now," she offered.

"I feel sorry for her," Elena spoke ruefully. "I can't imagine having a mom that doesn't care…"

"Katherine does care, she wouldn't be fighting Damon for sole custody if she didn't, would she?" Caroline argued. "It's the worst idea ever, I agree. But you can't deny that she-"

"She what?" Elena interjected. "When?" Elena asked bewildered.

"A few days back the letter came in, didn't Damon tell you?" Caroline questioned.

**xXx**

_And it's no secret that the both of us are running out of time._

**xXx**

It was over an hour after the incident with the doorbell, when Damon re-entered the room with Sophie on his hip. The hushed voice of his sister desperately trying to convince Elena instantly stilled. "Caroline, could you take Sophie for a minute?" Elena questioned with her voice cold and detached.

"Elena, come on, I told you! Maybe I misheard and there's always a reason, you have to-" Caroline started.

"What is going on?" Damon interrupted her before she could finish the sentence. He took in Caroline's apologetic expression and the betrayal in Elena's eyes.

Elena wasn't speaking.

"Alright, fine," Caroline huffed, taking Sophie by the hand and leading her upstairs.

"Hey," Damon drew softly, closing the distance between the reach out his hand to touch her cheek.

Elena had her arms crossed over her chest and made no sound until the door upstairs was shut. Tears welled up in her eyes as they met Damon's.

Her voice quivered as she attempted to utter the one question that remained. "When were you planning to stop lying about Katherine?" The pain in her voice was impossible to miss.

xXx

_There's such a difference between us__  
And a million miles_

xXx

It was almost 10 PM by the time Elijah closed the door of his office. On his way to the main exit he noticed how the door to the room with the personnel files was still open. Felix had cleaned up the disarray of folders that had lain all over the floor. Now it looked like nothing had happened, no intruder, just another night.

When Elijah moved the close the door however, he noticed a small piece of paper sliding along with it, stuck. He bent over to pick it up, a passport-sized photo. For a brief moment he mistook it for a picture of a younger Katherine. _Had she dropped it? _Then he recognized the company background. This picture was part of the series they shot 4 years ago for the entrance badges. It was Elena's picture as an intern, back when she wore her hair all curly.

He selected her folder in one of the drawers and put the picture back behind its paperclip. Quite the coincidence how he hadn't thought of her in months and it was her file of all files that turned out to be tampered with. She didn't even work for the company anymore.

The incident kept him thinking all the way home. _Had Katherine deliberately searched for Elena's file? What could Katherine and Elena have in common?_ There was a slight resemblance between the two women physically, sure. But looking at the different worlds Katherine and Elena lived in, he couldn't imagine where they could have crossed paths.

More curious than he would have liked, he tried the search engine for Katherine Pierce.

"Spotted: the Salvatores at opening Froud Builing"

"Generous benefactors: Salvatores donate 10 000 dollar to Childfocus"

_Katherine Salvatore… Salvatore_… the name did ring a bell, yet Elijah couldn't quite remember why. _Damon Salvatore. Damon-_

Suddenly it clicked, he could have hit himself in the face. _Elena's Damon. _

He vaguely remembered Elena telling him about her ex. It had been an ugly break-up, one she had never fully recovered from. The name had stuck with him because it was so uncommon, _Damon_. But that had been a decade ago.

_Was Damon divorcing his wife? Did Elena know? Had they rekindled their old flame? _Elijah tried entering his ex-girlfriend's name along with Damon's. The search came up blank. It had him confused. _Why would Katherine be interested in one of her husband's old flings. And what did that have to do with the current custody battle?_ Elijah couldn't see how a school girl crush could be relevant to anyone, years after the facts.

**xXx**

"Tonight," Damon admitted. "I was planning to tell you about Katherine tonight."

Elena waited impatiently until she heard the door upstairs close. Sophie didn't need to hear any of this.

"You told me she had left forever, you told me she has no interest in ever coming back!" Elena spat out, her disappointment evident.

"I tried-," Damon brought in. "Of course I wanted to tell you! But you were all insecure about being a parent to Sophie. The timing was all wrong and-"

"And I was right!" Elena interjected. "Katherine wants custody, Sophie wants Katherine. And you-, you can't stand it when your daughter is unhappy. In the end, I'll be the bad guy here!"

"So what? Who cares about appearances ? We work. You and Sophie work. Why do you keep looking for a reason to call it quits?" Damon challenged.

"Because you have no clue what you're in for!" Elena raised her voice.

"I'm in for a committed relationship with you! But apparently I'm alone in that!" Damon shot back.

"Oh, be real Damon! In a few weeks every tabloid will cover the story. They'll say you cheated, they'll call us names. Your reputation will be dragged through the mud and what for? For a shot while we can't even be sure this will work!"

"It won't matter, because when I get home, we'll close the door and it'll just be us," Damon tried to calm her down.

"Us and Sophie!" Elena snapped "Sophie who told me I could stay UNTIL HER MOM GOT BACK, Sophie who thinks I should get a boyfriend. She'll be devastated if her mother comes back and you pick me over her former life! And to be honest, I can't blame her. She doesn't need us to experiment, she needs stability."

"She needs me to be happy! And I thought we could be happy together!" Damon shot back. "Are you really willing to give up everything we have over this?" He was clutching the towel on the kitchen table, his knuckles white.

"And what do we have, Damon? A relationship where you have to hide the truth from me, based on a fantasy from when we weren't even old enough to drink?" Elena raged on.

"You were looking for reasons to quit before we even started," Damon accused her bitterly. "You're so scared this won't work out that you're too afraid to even try!"

"No, I'm being real. And I don't mean to crash the party, but someone has to think this through!" Elena refused to relent.

Damon threw down the towel he'd been clutching. He looked as if he was about to spit.

"I think I better go home," Elena announced, checking the room for her purse.

"Your car is still at work. I'll drive," Damon said matter-of-factly. He could barely contain the anger in his voice. Anger and disappointment, disappointment she had caused once again.

With a swift motion he stood up and swung his leather jacket over his shoulder. He forced himself to look casual.

"Care!" he yelled.

There was no reply.

"Caroline!"

His sister appeared at the top of the stairs.

"I'm dropping Elena off, you watch Sophie, ok?" he informed her curtly.

Caroline watched them concerned, her eyes searched her brother's but he refused to look back.

She nodded. She was glancing at Elena with prying eyes but came up blank.

xXx

_When we were younger and free__  
I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet_

xXx

The wind was howling loudly outside. Neither of them spoke on the way to Elena's apartment. As soon as they arrived in her street, Damon hit the brakes almost recklessly. The vehicle skidded to a stop with squeaking tires. Damon was out of the car a moment later, opening the passenger door forcefully. Elena almost expected him to throw her out next, but he didn't.

Instead he slammed the door shut and walked her up to her door in silence. Inside he felt all this rage, but it had nowhere to go. He hovered in her doorway for a moment, nor leaving, nor entering. He was on fire, he needed a fight, a way to let go.

"I hope you're happy now," he snapped at her.

"I'm not," she brought in. She tried to sound as calming as possible.

"I don't get you," Damon shot back. "You wanted your shot, you got it. You wanted to know Sophie, I let you. And now I've given you everything you've asked and you quit?"

"Do you think I was dying to rehash our fights? You think I was looking for another woman my daughter could learn to miss?" he questioned furiously. "I took a chance on you, I wish I hadn't!" he accused. He was feeling so many things at once and there was no way out for them. He couldn't make a scene at home with Sophie, he had no wife waiting for him at home. All he had were the pent up frustrations threatening to eat him alive.

"It was too soon, Damon!" Elena snapped back. "We barely got a chance to discuss anything, to figure out if we even worked anymore! And suddenly there's a five-year-old for me to consider. I've never raised a kid, I didn't know there was a Katherine. One moment I was simply trying to reconcile with you, and the next I'm in the middle of your divorce!" Elena tried to make him understand.

"So the second it gets a little complicated, I'm not worth it for you? Glad to know where I stand." Damon spoke spitefully.

"I just need time, Damon! Can't you get that, doesn't any part of you understand that this has just been a lot to process? I don't want to quit on you, I just want a moment to breathe. Can't we be friends for one second before I have the pressure of replacing your wife?" Elena ranted, body tense.

"No!" Damon brought in, a pitch higher than before. "In order to be friends, we'd have to like each other. And right now I can't even look at you," he spat. "I'm done trying to understand." His voice was quivering with anger

"Well, I'm done apologizing," Elena hissed back, "Done trying to meet your impossible expectations."

She felt electrified, as if she could have currents ripple through the dry air between them.

"And I'm done caring," Damon shot back, feeling the same tension.

His eyes were blazing and when they met hers, she stared back just as intensely.

There was this build-up of emotions in the pit of his stomach. It was an uncontainable force, growing and growing. The force grew stronger, feeding of all the tension in the room. It grew until it got wild, overpowering him, overwhelming him and suddenly he had her pressed against him.

His lips were devouring her hungrily, angrily. There was no wrong and no right anymore, there was just the force. His body acted on his own accord, pushed forward by all the emotions it was feeling. There had to be an outlet, so he devoured her before it could devour him.

Elena's lips had joined his instantly. Her fingers were threaded almost painfully in his hair. Her eyes were closed, coherent thoughts gone in a snapshot. She felt like a magnet caught in his orb.

The front door slammed shut as Damon gave it a kick. He picked her up and pressed her against the wall next to it. His lips went crazily fast from her lips to her neck, down her blouse and back up.

A moment later they were in the sofa. He held her hands pinned above her head as he devoured her. He had to have her and he had to have her now. As he fumbled with the zipper of his pants, Elena pulled her dress up and throw it out of the way in the blink of an eye. Damon took off her slip without bothering with her heals or her bra. Elena had successfully unbuttoned the three top buttons of his shirt when she grew impatient and just ripped open the rest.

And suddenly against all odds they were one. Elena's sharp intake of breath was followed by a grunt on Damon's part. It felt like they were on a high, their whole bodies on fire. It was forceful and almost violent. Damon was feeling far too much. He had the uncontrollable urge to let go. Let go the anger, the disappointment, the fear, the resentment. It felt like every stroke and every thrust was an out, bringing him a little bit closer to himself. He couldn't stop, he couldn't even control it. It was the force inside of him that needed a way out, and it was forcing itself through the path with the least resistance.

Elena felt him heavy on top of her. She pushed herself closer to him with every movement. It drained the power inside of her, exhausting her in the most satisfying way. Her body told him all those words he wouldn't accept.

Bit by bit the movements slowed, their pace turned normal as Damon's body tensed. Elena felt him still inside of her and release. The pulsing inside of her calmed both of them down. Damon forced his body to crash down next to her. To recover. Elena was breathing heavily on the other side.

As she caught her breath again, she took three tissues from the box on the side table. She did a superficial clean-up and lay down on top of his chest.

He placed his hand on the nape of the neck, a lone finger gently stroking back and forth, the rest of him too tired to do anything.

**xXx**

Hello from the outside  
At least I can say that I've tried  
To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart  
But it don't matter. It clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore

**xXx**

The streets on Elena's block were almost deserted when a black Lexus Luxury Sedan slowly drove through. Inside was someone peering through the darkness to read the numbers of the houses. It was almost midnight by now. The car seemed to linger for a moment before the driver checked the rear-view mirror to park. The last remaining spot in front of Elena's apartment building was taken now.

**xXx**

There might not be such a thing as a clear cut 'come-back'. Circumstances change, people change, so in the face of an altering world perhaps nothing and nobody can sneak into its old spot like nothing ever happened. Best friends find new friends, old boyfriends turn into men; and every trend has to adapt. Maybe there is no such thing as a comeback, maybe all there is… are new beginnings.

**xXx**

**Night-night dear readers :)**


	19. Big girls cry

**First of all happy holidays! Now here's the first part of a very important chapter. It's been a long time coming. By the end of part two all the chips will fall into place. I hope you enjoy it! :)**

**xXx**

Suck it up. Sometimes you simply have to suck it up. There is always a war going on somewhere. There are people with nothing to eat, people without a place to sleep. And you are not five years old. You know those tears will not get you anywhere. They do not solve anything. You tilt your head upwards and you blink the access fluid away. Get some waterproof mascara if you must. It's a big girl world now.

And big girls don't cry.

**xXx**

A little blue pen in the red box, a funny smelling bottle in the basket by the corner… From any stranger's perspective the entire house was a complete mess, yet the small child working diligently in the far right corner was seeing progress. It was summer break and the bubbly seven-year-old had taken it upon herself to rid the house of its current status as an unofficial dump yard.

It had never been this bad before, on the contrary, up until a year ago the house had been like any other. Since the little girl had lost her father, however, her mother had a hard time finding the motivation to run a household, or any motivation at all for that matter. A wild bunch of beautiful curls swung from side to side with vigour as the little girl tried to literally shake the thoughts out of her head. _No, she was not going to think about her father and cry, there was work to be done._

Cleaning the house was a huge job, but it was still manageable. Every item had to find a rightful place. It was a simple task. It would take ages, but that did not make it less simple. A five-year-old could do it, and she was already seven. It would all work out if she would just hang on and do one item after another. If she didn't stop, the job would be done at some point. _Right_? A sock, that one would have to join the heap on top of the stairs. She could do some laundry when this room was done. A book, that one had to be put in the cabinet downstairs. She could not go downstairs now though, her mother was passed out on the sofa again. Perhaps she could read the book, reading was so much more fun than cleaning. _No, she would have time for her reading when school started. She had to clean now, before she lost the will to try._

Still, maybe she should go downstairs after all. _Maybe her mother would help if she 'accidentally' woke her. Her mother would be interested what she was doing and-_

No. Her mother would not be interested. Her mother wasn't interested in anything lately. Not in her, not in the pile of clothes on top of the stairs, not even in the latest groceries spoiling in their hot car. Her mother was living on stand-bye, barely doing anything she couldn't do without. She went to work, she put food on the table and then she fell asleep, awaiting the alarm that would start a new day. She hadn't always been that way. Back when her husband had still been around she was a picture perfect housewife. Yet somehow along the way the loss of her man had taken things from her, like the ability to shower, to use dustbins, or simply the ability to care.

It was a rough patch. But Katherine could handle a little rough patch. Perhaps her mom had just lost track of things. Or perhaps she thought the mess was too big by now to even consider cleaning it up. Either way Katherine had a plan. Being the first of her class, and the leader among her group of classmates; she always had a plan. She would organize the stuff that was lying around the house and then her mother could help her clean. They could make the house look just like it used to, perhaps it could bring back the mom she used to have. They could go back like nothing had ever changed.

_Except it had._

Because now she was the kind of child that had learned to cook for her mother, to wash both of their clothes. It wasn't right. The brown curls moved from side to side again as she shook that thought out of her head too. There were little girls her age who were married. They had taught her that in school. And there was a war going on somewhere. She wasn't going to throw a pity party, she was going to pick up the next item and put it in the right spot like the good girl she was. _Her dad would have been so proud_.

Her chocolate eyes fell on the leather briefcase that had belonged to her father. She hesitated for an instant but put a tight lid on her emotions and bravely reached for it. _In another lifetime she could run down the stairs in tears before reminiscing with her mother over a steaming cup of chocolate milk. They could talk well into the night on a luxurious swing on their porch, both covered by a homemade blanket… _

In this lifetime she didn't have any time for that, she was cleaning, she couldn't get distracted. She had to open it though, to look for more items that needed _organizing_. _Right_? Perhaps a little distraction then.

First there was a journal. Before thinking twice she raced through the paces looking for the fifth of February. "Katy's birthday – 5 years old", her father's hand had written neatly. He always had great handwriting. Katherine quickly closed the journal and moved on. An empty water bottle, a foldable umbrella, a notepad, two pens, a calculator, three painkillers… there was not much left to be found. Disappointed the little girl checked all the pockets in the front and on the sides. Something long and cold was stuck in a low left corner. Patiently she unhooked a small silver bracelet from the briefcase. It was beautiful. A slender bracelet with three silver stars. They had tiny diamonds all over them making them truly sparkle.

She tried it on. It was her size, far too small for her mother. _Perhaps her father had bought it for her as a Christmas present_. He often gave her and her mom jewellery. She missed him. It was unfair she had to miss him. She deserved a father. Hell, she didn't even have a mother these days. _Why was this her life? Why did she have to deal with a dead father _and_ a grieving mother as well? Couldn't life give her a little break?_

_No. There was no time for negativity now. There was no one to see her tears anyhow. She was not about to let herself be distracted. She had to clean._

**xXx**

No time for love  
No time for hate  
No drama no time  
For games

**xXx**

A slender finger traced the length of Damon's chest. It didn't go all the way down anymore. Instead it turned upwards right before it could do anything seductive. There was a time for sex and a time for tenderness.

For a moment there Elena eyed Damon as if she was going to give him a statement of a certain magnitude. Then the moment was over and Damon eyed her questioningly, as if waiting for her to say anything.

She didn't want though. Didn't want to talk, didn't want to spill any more words knowing nothing had changed since their last fight. It was late. She was tired.

She felt like there were two realities out there, the one in their hearts and the one in their heads. And they had finally found a way to separate them. _Wasn't that enough for just this moment? Couldn't it be enough to make it through one single night together?_

Her eyes were wide and almost pleading as she tried to convey what she was feeling without a sound. She cupped his left cheek with her right hand. She moved slightly, her eyes urging him to follow her by moving to his right side. Then she nestled herself against him, like a little spoon that fit him perfectly.

Her eyes were closed. She felt his breathing in her neck. He hadn't spoken a word. Not yet. She hoped he wouldn't, hoped that for one moment it could simply be their hearts acting on their own accord. Could he possibly understand that, that the silence was there one shot here? It felt so important to her, and yet so silly. _There was a war going on somewhere, some people had really problems. _

Damon wrapped his arms around her, intertwining his fingers with the ones she was holding to her chest. He still smelled like sex. It calmed her, comforted her. She could happily fall asleep this way. Yet the switch that would turn off the lights was too far enough for her to reach. She didn't dare to stand up or to move. She had to stay in this moment with him. Part of her was still dreading the fact that they would unavoidably have to say something at some point.

"Let's not fight, I'm tired. Can't we just sleep tonight," Sia's lyrics were stuck in her head. It would probably be that way for the rest of the night. "Soon we'll be found…"

A car pulling up right below the bedroom window broke Elena out of her reverie.

She tilted her head Damon's way.

"Are you expecting anyone?" he asked her. "No," Elena replied. "What time is it?" she questioned.

"About one o'clock at night I think," Damon replied.

"Who comes around here after midnight?" Elena wondered out loud. "Probably some drunk kids from the neighbourhood," Damon replied.

He took a blanket to cover his private parts and moved to the window. He slid the curtain slightly to the side. "Anyone you know driving a dark Lexus?"

"No," Elena replied instantly, feeling a bit anxious. She found it a little eerie. This had never happened before. Damon didn't seem impressed though.

The telephone rang and he tilted his head toward the sound. "There, on the kitchen counter," Elena pointed. "Aren't you picking up?" Damon questioned.

"No, if it's urgent they will try my cell," she replied evenly, pointing to the dark screen of her Iphone.

"May I?" Damon asked.

"Sure," Elena answered.

Damon picked up the phone over in the kitchen on the fifth ring.

"Hello?" he spoke.

"This is Damon Salvatore on Elena Gilbert's phone," he replied to a question Elena couldn't hear.

"Fine, good night to you too," he ended the call.

"Wrong number," he stated, slipping back into the bed with her.

"Don't you think it's weird," Elena demanded.

Damon chuckled "Don't be scared, I'll protect you," he stated jokingly.

"Let's just sleep," Elena retorted, rolling her eyes.

**xXx**

"Mom, you promised!" a teenage voice boomed through the hallway.

"Kat, something has come up. Deal with it!" Isobel yelled back just as loudly.

"No. That's not how a promise works. This was my night! You cannot ever be a real parent for one night, can you?" Katherine taunted.

"I swear on your grandmother's grave-" her mother started.

"Well, you swear on just about anything, especially when you're on the right pills!" Katherine screamed.

"My work is what puts bread on the table, young lady," her mother spoke strictly.

"More like what puts the booze in your coffee. Do you think I'm an idiot, that I don't smell how disgusting-"

"That's enough out of you!" Isobel brought in. "And that is no way to speak to your mother!"

"What mother?" Katherine brought in dryly.

Isobel slammed the bathroom door shut behind her, she wasn't having any of it.

She startled when Katherine stormed in a few seconds later, smudging the mascara she was trying to apply.

"Katherine!" her mother groaned frustrated.

"You can't do this! You always let me down! And for what, to ruin a stupid senator's election. Who cares? You are not even into politics, you're a journalist!" Katherine complained bitterly.

"You don't have the first clue what's going on or you would understand!" Isobel told her daughter mysteriously.

"Is this about the man you've been bullying? Yeah, I heard you on the phone," Katherine stated matter-of-factly. "Ruining your own life wasn't enough, huh? You have to go ahead and ruing everyone else's too!"

"Kat, you don't know what that man did to me, to us. If he had just-"

"You know what, I don't even care. I'm taking money from your wallet and I'm calling a cab. This is your mess and I'm done paying for your mistakes!"

"Kat!" her mother called after her. "You know we need that money! You can't-"

It was no use, the girl in the pretty dress had already fled the scene.

xXx

High on adrenaline, Katherine ran from the house. She didn't stop until she was two blocks further. There she stood alone in the middle of the road, one hand clutched tightly around the money she had taken, the other one holding her phone. She took a deep breath before dialling the number of the cab company. Deep down she knew this was a horrible idea. They didn't have enough money as it was. If it weren't for her student job they couldn't even make rent half of the time. A cab was far too expensive, a luxury they could not afford. Still right in that moment, she didn't care. She didn't want to be the girl counting every cent, making up for her mother's irresponsibility. Tonight she just wanted to be young and free.

It didn't take long for the cab to arrive. She stepped in somewhat unsure. _Screw it, the damage _was already done, it would be a big waste if she spend the entire night on regrets. She had to let it go. Chocolate curls moved slightly from side to side as she willed the thoughts out of her head.

It was a long drive over to the party. A couple of blocks away in the more respected part of town, a grand estate was completely lit up by tiny golden lanterns. There was a fancy party going on. Katherine thought about the women in expensive dresses, sipping pricy champagne and eating delicacies… It was funny how in some parts of town people had all their heart's desires, while in others people needed to take on three jobs to make due. America, the land of opportunity was also the land of great divisions.

If only her parents had been the doctors or lawyers of town, she would have been planning an amazing sweet sixteen instead of sneaking out in a 15 dollar dress. It was so unfair how some people just had it all, simply because they were born into the right family. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a girl around her age being greeted by a handsome young men. They looked so in love, so privileged and content. They clearly didn't have to work for the luxury they could freely enjoy. Katherine bet the young men never paid for that gorgeous suit himself. Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he had paid it with the privileged student job his parent's had gotten him with some friends of theirs. That's how life went, the rich would always help the rich. she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. _There was a war going on somewhere_.

Katherine tightly held onto the money in her hand. She realized that it must have been a strange sight for the driver, a lonely girl in a cheap dress a couple of inches too short clutching a handful of bills. She hadn't even brought a purse or a jacket… or Chloe's present. She couldn't turn around now, she would find a way to explain it to her friend instead. _Friend. Were they even real friends?_ Katherine had never been popular in school. Her mother's social status caused her to be a bit of an outsider. She couldn't quite figure out whether people pitied her of just mocked her because of it. This was the first party she had been invited to in a very long time. _Then again Chloe had invited their entire class, hadn't she?_ There was no need to dwell on that though, Katherine told herself. She wasn't about to throw a pity party like a five-year-old. There would always be an infinite supply of negative thoughts for those who wanted to be pessimistic. Seeing the good amidst all the bad, that was the true challenge. Katherine could suck it up and put on a smile. _She wasn't about to be one of the people bringing herself down. _

**xXx**

"Are you staying over?" Sophie wondered out loud as Caroline tucked her in.

"Yes I am," her aunt replied, dimming the light in the room.

"So you'll be here tomorrow then?" the little girl double-checked.

"Yeah, it's too late for me to be on the road anyway and your father will be a while," Caroline replied.

"Can't you just come live here with us?" Sophie suggested. "Then you don't ever have to go home."

"I have my own house, remember?" the blonde informed her warmly.

"My mom had her own house too, and she left," Sophie brought in.

"Your mother is not gone for good," Caroline tried to comfort her, "She is just having a hard time. But I'm sure you'll see her again. She is just figuring things out."

"Did you know that my mom did not even want me?" the little girl suddenly professed out of the blue.

"What?" Caroline asked confused.

"Yeah, Jill overheard her parents talk. My mom never wanted a baby, she told Jill's mother that. And suddenly I was there, but she never wanted me," Sophie's voice trembled slightly as she finished her announcement.

"Your mother loves you, you know that!" Caroline exclaimed.

"She does not. She didn't want me at first and now she left!" Sophie said determined.

"Come here," Caroline took her niece into her lap, wrapping a fleece blanket around both of them. "You misunderstood," she explained softly. "Do you even know where babies come from?" she wondered out loud.

"No."

"Good. We're going to keep it that way. But take it from me, making babies is not an easy thing to do," she supplied. "For starters, people cannot really 'make' a baby. Babies are miracles, you cannot choose when you want one of if you'll get one," she added.

"You can't?" Sophie questioned surprised.

"No," Caroline answered. "It's a little like winning the lottery. You can buy more tickets to increase your chances of winning, but no one can guarantee that you have those winning numbers, no matter how many tickets you buy. Do you understand that?"

Sophie eyed her somewhat confused.

"Would you like to know a secret?" Caroline whispered conspiringly.

Her niece nodded enthusiastically.

"You uncle and I have been trying to get a baby for quite some time now. But we don't have one yet. You see that it's not something anyone can guarantee, it's just luck…" she confessed.

"But are you sure that you are doing it right then?" Sophie was already searching for a solution.

"Let's not get into that. Forget I said anything." Caroline brought in quickly. "The point is that babies are something unpredictable. Your mom was not trying to get pregnant when she found out she was having a baby. But that doesn't mean that she wasn't happy. I don't think your mother loves anyone on the planet as much as she loves you, Soph."

"But how do you know that she wanted me?" the small child insisted.

"Because if she didn't want to, she didn't have to be your mom."

"How so?" Sophie wondered.

Caroline pondered working some ways to answer the question but dismissed them since they were not really age-appropriate. "She loves you Sophie… Your mom always cared for you and made sure you had everything you needed. She looked out for you and tucked you in. She remembered the names of all your stuffed animals. Her mom never did that for her, and my mom didn't do that for me. I think your mom really tried to be the best mom she could be for you," Caroline insisted.

"But then why would she leave me all alone?" Sophie interjected.

"She didn't leave you alone, Soph. She left you with your dad and she knew he was a good dad."

The room was quiet for a moment.

Caroline wrapped her arms more tightly around the little girl in her lap.

"Your mother was having a hard time," she started explaining. "I believe she tried to cover it up for a while, but I could see your mom was struggling. And you have a really tough mom, it's important that you know that. But sometimes enough is enough. Moms want the best for their children, they want to take care of them, for them to be happy. Yet that also means that sometimes mothers will put their children before themselves."

Caroline paused for a moment, looking for words that might explain the situation better without alarming her favourite niece. "Your mom was not feeling well lately. And she could not cover it up anymore. But she could not let you see and worry about it either. So she choose to step away from the house for a little while, to get better, while she knew that your dad would take good care of you. I'm sure it was not easy for her to leave you for a while. But-"

_How did one explain a depression or mid-life crisis to a five-year old? And was that even the problem?_ Caroline didn't know where Katherine was or how she was doing, but she had seen how hollow and empty her eyes had become. Motherhood had softened Katherine, and from time to time the pain behind her eyes had become evident, even to Caroline. Now Katherine wanted custody. This was not false hope for Sophie. _Her mother would be back, wouldn't she? Perhaps this midlife crisis had been all about Katherine needing a divorce?_

**xXx**

Six years ago

The smell of overprized perfume already gave Damon a sense of the company he found himself in before he entered the ballroom. This was one of his father's charity gala's, in other words a mandatory event. The room was perfect. The chandeliers were exquisite, their diamonds reflecting glimpses of the gorgeous gowns. Grand windows at the side of the room showed perfectly kept gardens the seemed to go on forever. His father had chosen the location well, or rather his team had. The venue was owned by the Mickelson family. His father enjoyed generous discounts when using the services of their law firm. This was a clear case of them scratching each other's backs.

As Damon's eyes slid across the room, they landed on a young woman. She appeared somewhat out of place. A typical individual wouldn't notice, but to Damon's trained eyes it was evident. The choker around her neck wasn't nearly heavy enough to be real, the finishing of her dress was not perfect enough to be designer made; and the way she was eying the caviar told him she wasn't used to any of this.

"Hello beautiful," he announced his presence, after striding halfway across the room. "May I have this dance," he invited her, holding his hand out for her.

He'd known beforehand that this would be the perfect test. This was what would determine whether she had fallen out of a certain family's good graces, or did not belong here at all.

One two three.  
One two three.

The waltz was difficult to master, and impossible to pick up by simply watching.

The girl in his arms did the best she could. She was quick on her feet, attempting to hide how she struggled with the difficult rhythm. Yet it wasn't that rhythm that gave her away, it was her posture. Her back wasn't straightened, her neck not turned the right way, and she couldn't get the distance between them right. She had to make him want her without really giving him anything, that was the class this dance required. It was her beautiful neck that ought to seduce him, not her being too close. This girl had never been a débutante at a cotillion, that much was evident.

"So what brings you here," Damon wondered out loud, not even bothering to ask for her name.

"You know how it is… charity," she was obviously lying through her teeth. He briefly pondered whether she was this naive or playing a part. A spark in her eyes however told him that there was more to her than the sheepish grin on her face.

A journalist, was Damon's best guess. The place was swamped with anyone who was anyone. The press was bound to try and sneak in. He pondered doing his father and favour and escorting the young lady to security. Out of the corner of his eye he scanned the room for the nearest steward.

_No, that couldn't be. That could simply not be true_. By the red velvet curtain, on the arm of non other than Elijah Mickelson was… Elena Gilbert.

Before thinking twice Damon took his new friend by the hand and pulled her to the nearest exit.

**xXx**

Another big sip from the liquor bottle made Katherine giggle slightly. _Katherine, that was her name_. At this point, Damon could care less though. _Katherine, Stacy, Jennifer, to him it was all the same, as long as it was not Elena._

The giggling beauty made him smile, smile at the thought that she probably hadn't drunk anything that expensive in her life, and now she was having an entire bottle… and many more. _Good for her, _he thought as he took a gulp himself. He still didn't know what to think of her, yet he decided that _he_ was playing _her_ and she was innocent. It just felt better that way, and he would probably never see her again after that night after all.

"So she was your high school loverrr?" Katherine asked, slurring the r slightly.

"She was the love of my life," Damon corrected her, taking another gulp.

"You haven't lived that long," Katherine point out in a pleasant way.

He enjoyed the way her eyes shone when she spoke.

"But she was definitely something," Damon mused, a little less drunk than her.

"Cheer u- up," Katherine giggled, handing him the bottle. When Damon didn't take it, she poked him in the ribs instead.

"Hey," Damon jumped away at the tickling sensation.

"You're too prettyyy… to be sad," Katherine announced, holding the bottle. It had Damon wondering whether she'd ever been drunk before. Perhaps she was simply very bad at acting drunk. He smiled, grabbing for the liquor now.

"No," Katherine stated mock-strictly as she held the bottle out of his reach. "First you promise that you'll be happy," she offered.

Damon tried to grab a hold of the bottle again without giving her a reply.

"No," she spoke firmly, now she stood up, stepping back a few steps in the garden. She was still surprisingly stable, even on high heels.

Before Katherine realized what was happening he was chasing her right until he tripped her. It was only a moment later that his lips were on hers. Damon was taking over their game now. He caught her in more ways than one. He didn't seem to care, neither did she.

This wasn't like her. She was slipping into the act, becoming the character she had been playing. She wasn't happy and bubbly, she was calculated and poised. Yet his response to her act had her enjoying his company. Perhaps she could be a different girl for just one night, more naïve, more playful. Hell, she could be whatever he liked, he was gorgeous.

Would it really be such a bad thing to truly be a part of 'them' for one night, the people with the wallets, the glory, the life everyone wanted. This was Damon Salvatore crushing his lips to hers, Damon Salvatore fidgeting with the bra that secretly opened in the front. _He would find out later on, he was a clever man_. And so they settled in the shadows of a thousand little golden lanterns. The same type of little golden lanterns that Katherine had dreamed of 1500 nights ago in the cab. It was a small world now, wasn't it?

**xXx**

_To be continued…_

**There. I hope you liked it and I'm thrilled to have you putting all the pieces together bit by bit. Thanks for the PM's and reviews, it's always encouraging to know that people still enjoy this :)**** Night-night!**


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